


Evil By Proxy

by Raggedpelt



Category: Phineas and Ferb
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-10-26 00:46:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 40
Words: 45,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10775964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raggedpelt/pseuds/Raggedpelt
Summary: Perry and Doof find themselves pitted against a mysterious enemy. But how can you fight a foe you can't identify?





	1. Chapter 1

_I don’t have time for this_ , Heinz griped to himself as he removed his helmet and climbed off his moped. L.O.V.E.M.U.F.F.I.N. had dozens evil scientists, but for some reason _he_ had to be the one to go evaluate this potential new member. Never mind how busy he was, OR that someone broke into his lair last week while he was out and stole every single blueprint. No. Apparently Heinz had to do everything.

The location for the lair was nicely chosen, though, he had to hand that to “Dr. Hazard”. One of the caves under Danville mountain. It already had the ambiance, all it would take is a little renovation. He looked around, and spotted a teenage girl in a lab coat loitering by the entrance. “Excuse me, can you point me to where Dr. Hazard is?”

“I, um… I _am_ Dr. Hazard. Hi, uh, Vanessa’s Dad. Are you the evaluator?”

“Well, yes,” Heinz admitted, trying to place her. “But Love Muffin doesn’t accept minors.” Wait, she was one of Vanessa’s friends. He was used to seeing her with her hair up in pigtails.

“I lied about my age. That’s evil, though, right?”

“I… suppose?” he said, not entirely comfortable, “I mean, I approve of your shamelessness, but… it’s a legal thing. I could recommend you for Love Muffin’s ‘Young Terror’ scholarship. It’s a full ride to Evil Tech! Do you have a lair set up?”

“Well… it’s not done, but I can show you what I have. Oh, I can also tell you about the evil plan I came up with!”

Heinz followed her inside. It was a small space for a lair, but it had a lava pool. Very nice! At the moment, she had two cages suspended over it; one with stuffed foxes in it, one with a doll.

“Okay, so, those are my hostages,” she said, pointing at the stand-ins, “Vanessa mentioned the time you put a tracker on your nemesis, so I figured all I have to do is do the same, and I can figure out where my nemesis’s host family lives. Then I just need to snag a kid from her host family,” she pointed at the doll, “and one of her own species,” she pointed at the stuffed fox,  “That way, it’ll mess with her head on which one to save!”

Heinz was aghast, “You can’t dangle small children or small foxes over lava!”

“Is it not evil enough? I mean, I’ve got spikes, I guess I could figure out something with those…”

“No no no. It’s _too_ evil. You’re not supposed to torment your nemesis like that! The intense, burning hatred needs to be forged from grudging mutual respect!”

“But she’s standing _in my way.”_

“Yes,” Heinz replied, exasperated, “That is the _entire point_ of having a nemesis!” He took a closer look at the suspended cages. “Are.. are those weighted so that the other one will fall when one is emptied?”

“Technically yes, but she won’t get a chance,” the girl piped up, “While she’s trying to make up her mind on which to save, I’m going to shoot her with this!” She held up a small handheld device in her hand that was REMARKABLY familiar looking to him.

“Is that an Inator?” he said with a frown.

“What? No, of course not. It’s an Itizer. Look at how the power source is connected, see? Definitely an Itizer. More streamlined than an Inator. ….No offense.”

“Well,” he said, not convinced, “I’m cancelling this evil scheme. No dangling small children over lava. It’s not to Love Muffin standards. We’re evil, not savages.”

She was silent for a moment. “You _are_ from the evil scientist group, right?”

“Of course I am! I don’t wear this lab coat just because it’s stylish! . . . . Have you invented anything else?”

“Well, my best invention is probably the Paralyitizer. It uses a strong jolt of electricity to override the outgoing motor nerve impulses, paralyzing every single skeletal muscle in the victim’s body.”

“Well, that’s pretty evil. Do you have anything that you could use to, say, easily conquer the tristate area?”

“I’m… working on it,” she answered, giving him the side eye.

“Oh, I’m not going to steal your plan. I have a lot of diabolical plans of my own to work on. I just need to evaluate it for my report to Love Muffin.”

“I’ve been trying to get into O.W.C.A.’s database. All I really need is one of the agent’s hats, and I can use my computer there to access their systems using the agent’s security clearance. Once I get into the database, I can access the files of every single agent in the tri-state area, and take them out one by one. That way, when it’s time for me to make my move, they won’t be there to stop me.”

“You can’t _kill_ everyone’s nemesis!” He didn’t bother trying to keep his voice down, but her reply was still in a conversational tone.

“Yeah, I’m probably going to have to come up with something else for Agent W, since he’s an endangered species.”

“No, no, that’s not what I meant! I meant that one does not simply interfere with anyone else’s nemesis! It’s.. it’s like cheating!”

“Isn’t cheating and breaking the rules part of being evil, though?” she replied, hitting a button on the keyboard. Behind him, the cages hit the lava.

“Yes, but not those rules! If you want to be part of Love Muffin someday, you have to have some limit to what you- did you just… you just dropped the effigy of the small child into lava. What is wrong with you!?”

“Evil,” she replied with a shrug. Then, realizing he apparently wasn’t satisfied with that answer, “I don’t really feel like doing the whole ‘backstory’ thing. You only have to do the backstory part when talking to a nemesis, right?”

“Well, usually yes,” he said, trying to think on his feet, “but this is for the, er, the application process.” He gestured with his clipboard.

“Okay, well, I became evil because my parents are the literal worst, and they’re refusing to pay at ALL for me to get my Mad Scientist Associates Degree, and Love Muffin has a scholarship program and everything so that seemed worth pursuing, y’know?”

“Well, terrible parents are a pretty good reason,” Heinz admitted, “Okay, so far everything looks good. Except for the ‘dangling small children and animals over lava’ part. You’ll need to work on that. And the ‘torturing your nemesis’ part or ‘killing everyone else’s nemesis’ part. The way you are is just the wrong sort of evil.”

The teen wasn’t looking at him, just fiddling with the controls on her ‘Paralytizer’. “Yeah, well… I _really_ want in anyway. And it’d suck if I had to declare **you** my new nemesis because it’s your fault they don’t let me in.” She glanced up, giving him an unnerving smile.

“Well, uh… if you promise to not drop anything alive in lava I.. I could probably give a positive report to the rest of Love Muffin. Once we reach a decision, I’ll be back with the verdict, alright? Alright. Bye now.”

He hurried out without giving her a chance to reply. Heinz wasn’t too proud to admit that, at the moment, he was physically afraid of a sixteen-year-old girl.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

When he got home, Doofenshmirtz Evil Incorporated smelled like onions and death. Apparently Norm was making some sort of casserole again. That reminded Heinz that he needed to finish work on those artificial taste receptors he had designed—maybe if Norm could taste what he was making, he wouldn’t add so much salt.

“Hello dad! Did your interview go well?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Perry stopped by, but I told him you weren’t in! He didn’t leave a message!”

“Well, that’s okay,” Heinz said, still running over that morning’s conversation in his mind. Maybe he could fix this before things got out of hand. And if he did it under the radar, nobody would ever be the wiser and his reputation wouldn’t be ruined, “I need to get to work on my new Inator for tomorrow. Norm, go get all the cat fur from under the couch while I go use the internet to buy glitter and sunshine.”

“Oh boy! I thought you didn’t approve of my favorite show!”

“I don’t, actually. This is for something else!”

“Fine! I’ll go ahead and get the fur out of the vacuum cleaner while you’re busy judging excellent pony shows that you don’t even watch!”

They were about six hours into building when the phone rang. Heinz glanced at the number; great, like things weren’t bad enough already today. Still, he answered it. “Hello, Charlene.”

“Hey Heinz. Look, I’m getting called away for an out of tristate business meeting. Think you can take Vanessa for the next few days?”

“Of course I can! I would be glad to have her over. We always have such a good time.”

“Thanks. Tonight she’s staying at a friend’s house, but she’s going to call you tomorrow to come pick her up.”

“Okay!” Heinz said with a grin, “And this means I can meet another one of Vanessa’s little friends!”

“I’m sure she’ll be thrilled.”

“Hey, was that sarcasm?”

“No.”

“I am a cool dad! Even if she doesn’t always think so!”

“Look, I have to go. Charles is picking me up in a few minutes. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Who is-?” she hung up before he could finish the question. Rude.

“Bye Mom!” Norm said in a cheery tone as he landed on the balcony. He was carrying a huge sack.

“Norm, she’s not your mother.”

“I just wanted to feel included! While I was out, I got extra kitten fur for the machine! Also, I have been banned from every pet store in the tri-state area!”

Heinz pinched the bridge of his nose. “Norm, what did you do?”

“They don’t like it when you shave the kittens!”

“Oh well, it’s worth it. Go ahead and set the bag over there. I need to get back to work.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Come on,” Vanessa grumbled, “Pick up.” After all, Dad knew that she was supposed to be calling today. What was taking so long?

On the fourth ring, he answered “Helllooo?”

“Yeah, um, hi dad. Look, can I ask a favor?”

“Oh, Vanessa! Sure you can!”

“Could my friend Lacie stay with us for a few days? Her parents just got into it and… it’s pretty bad.”

“I don’t see why not! I’m sure she’s a very nice girl.”

Vanessa heaved a sigh of relief. “Awesome. Thanks. Her mom is a _psycho._ Like, worse than Grandpa. Anyway, we hitched a ride to the mall with Pierce, so it’d be great if you could come here and get us. We’re by the south entrance.”

“I’ll be there soon! You two stay safe!”

Vanessa glanced back at Lacie, trying not to let her gaze linger too long on her friend’s black eye. “He’s on his way.”

About twenty minutes later, Dad came pulling up. They heard the rattle and roar of the engine long before he turned the corner, and Vanessa hid her face in her hands. _Oh, for fuck’s sake. He brought the Boomshlaka._ The rattling, primer-green monstrosity looked like it belonged in the Soviet space program, not on the road. The vibrations from the gigantic engine threatened to shake the vehicle apart at any moment.

“Whoa,” Lacie said, “Is that street legal?”

“If you were a cop,” Vanessa replied without lifting her head from her hands, “Would YOU try to pull over a car with a turret?”

“Okay, point.”

Vanessa glanced around. Just about everyone was staring at her dad and his screaming metal death trap of a car, but so far no attention had been brought to her. Maybe if they retreated inside, she could just call Dad’s cell and tell him to come back with—

“VANESSA! VANESSA SWEETIE! I’M OVER HERE! COME ON, PUMPKIN-PANTS, IT’S TIME TO GO!”

Beside her, Lacie valiantly struggled to disguise a laugh as a cough. Ever notice how the ground just refuses to open up and swallow you when you really need it to?

“Come on, I’ll help you get your bag.” She grabbed Lacie’s duffel bag, and was surprised by the weight, “Man this is heavy. What’d you pack, a body?”

Lacie opened her mouth to reply, but Dad cut her off, “There’s nothing… _evil_ in there, is there? The, uh, bad kind of evil.”

Oh my god. “Dad! What kind of question is that!?”

“You mean you don’t know? She’s EVIL, Vanessa!”

Lacie looked crushed. Vanessa was furious. “I can’t believe you!”

“B-but she is! I saw her lair and her evil plans and everything!”

“I’m so sorry, Lacie. He’s not normally—okay, well, he’s always like this, but—“

“It’s okay,” Lacie mumbled, looking down, “I’m used to it.”

“But… I _swear_ she’s evil”

Vanessa set the duffel in the back seat, then glowered at him, “Says the guy who, last weekend, was working on a gadget to de-bark all dogs in the tristate area.”

“It wasn’t going to actually hurt them, though! Just make them shut up!”

“Don’t worry, Dr. Doofenshmirtz,” Lacie mumbled, “I promise I won’t be any trouble, okay? You’re really doing me a favor here”

Dad looked at her for a long moment, and his expression softened. He’d probably finally noticed the black eye. “Well, as long as you’ve promised.” He held open the back door for them while they climbed in, “Just don’t be too evil while you’re staying at my place. You can be mildly evil, just not evil-evil, okay?”

“Oh my god, Dad. Stop talking. Drive. People are staring at us.”

He talked pretty much the entire way back to DEI, but Vanessa popped in her headphones so she wouldn’t have to listen to the mind-numbing chatter. Once they were up in the penthouse slash lair, though, she supposed she should give Lacie the ground rules. “You can go ahead and set your stuff there. Just don’t hit any buttons or switches. And keep an eye out for pressure plates. And platypus traps. ….Pretty much don’t step anywhere you don’t see me step first.”

“Wicked,” Lacie said with a small grin.

“Really? You think that’s cool?”

“Yeah,” Lacie admitted, “A little, anyway.”

Dad beamed proudly, “See, Vanessa, someone thinks I’m cool!”

“PLEASE don’t go into show-and-tell mode, dad. She doesn’t need to know about all the inators.”

“Do they work?” Lacie asked.

Dad looked a bit offended. “Of course they work! I don’t always use them effectively, but they work!”

“Come on, Lacie, let’s head down to my room, alright?

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

When Lacie came to, her head was buzzy and full of static. It took her a long moment to realize that she had been tied to a chair. “Wha…?”

“Hello again, Dr. Hazard!” Doofenshmirtz beamed, “Do you like my new Inator? It’s going to solve all our problems!”

The Inator he had pointed at her was pink and sparkly. What the actual fuck? “It’s, uh… it’s pretty. Why is Rainbow Dash drawn on the side of it?”

“I was helping!” Doofenshmirtz’s robot said in a cheery tone.

Doofenshmirtz rolled his eyes. “Norm thought that since I made something sparkly that it needed ponies on it.”

“And you picked _Rainbow Dash?_ ” Lacie sneered, “Everyone knows that Trixie is the best pony.

The robot rotated his mouth 180 degrees to mimic a frown, “She is more evil than you described, sir!”

Okay. Stay calm. Keep him talking. “So, what are you going to do to me?”

“I’m going to use this Less-Evil-Inator! Without over-complicating things, it’ll make you less evil.”

“Uh-huh. And what’s my motivation for not screaming “rape” so loud that Vanessa hears me?”

“There’s soundproofing between my floor and hers now. She kept getting mad because my inators were so loud.”

Well, that was simultaneously clever AND freaky. Lacie glanced over at the door. Just a little longer. Keep him talking. “Could you loosen the restraint on my right arm? There’s a huge bruise there and the rope’s making it hurt.”

“Huh? Oh, of course.” Doofenshmirtz walked over and adjusted it. She took advantage of his proximity to kick him in the shin as hard as she possibly could.

“Owww!” he cried, clutching his leg and hopping on one foot, “What did you do that for?!”

“Because I don’t want to be shot with your stupid inator! I like me how I am!”

“Love Muffin won’t!”

“Yeah, well—“

Finally, _finally,_ Doofenshmirtz’s stupid nemesis kicked in the front door. About damn time. What had taken the little—what the hell was that? A platypus?—so long? Whatever it was, it got a stunned look on its face when it saw her.

Naturally, she pressed her advantage and burst into tears.

“Perry the Platypus!” her captor said, waving his hands, “It’s not what it looks like!”

The platypus deftly dodged a trap that had been set for him, did a single acrobatic flip, tripped up Doofenshmirtz’s robot, then used his momentum to judo-throw Dr. Doofenshmirtz directly into a wall.

Doofenshmirtz started to pick himself back up. “You’re being unusually mean tod-“

The platypus landed a savage uppercut, and followed it with a tail-slam. Satisfied that Dr. D would be down for a moment, he ran over, hit the Self-Destruct button on the Inator (it vaporized in a cloud of pink glitter and fur of some sort), then started to untie her.

Just then, Vanessa stepped in the front door, looking a bit woozy. She froze on the spot when she saw the chaos going on in the penthouse.

“Please please please get me out of here Perry please,” Lacie begged, trying to look her most pitiful.

“Perry the Platypus,” Doofenshmirtz groaned, trying to pull himself back together, “Th-that was my Less-Evil-Inator! I was going to make her less evil!”

Perry gestured for Lacie to follow him, and ran downstairs. She followed him without complaint. She could hear Vanessa’s angry voice fading behind them. Once they were safely outside, Perry paused to catch his breath. Moving slowly, so as not to draw his attention, Lacie pulled the Paralytizer out of her pocket.

 

He never saw it coming.


	3. Chapter 3

“I can’t believe you!” Vanessa shouted, “Attacking my friends like that?! She’s not _evil,_ she just has parents who are fucking crazy! And apparently so do I!”

“I was just going to try to make her less evil!” Dad pleaded, trying to explain, “And then Perry the Platypus showed up and interrupted, and—“

Vanessa wasn’t going to listen to any more of this nonsense. She turned to stalk off, but ended up tripping over the duffel bag that Lacie had brought with her and faceplanting. A laser shot out the side, bounced off of several shiny surfaces in the lab, then hit a passing bird, knocking it out of the sky. “Wh-what was that?”

“A laser. Probably an EVIL laser,” Dad answered, offering a hand to help her back up.

Vanessa ignored the offered hand, and unzipped the bag. It was full of power tools, gadgets, circuit boards, and what looked like weaponry. She pulled out the laser that had fired and turned it over in her hands, looking stunned.

“See? I was telling the truth!” he said, “I may be an evil genius, but I’m not a liar. I can even show you her evil lair!”

“Evil lair?” Vanessa repeated.

“Yes. It’s got a lava pool and everything! It’s up in the Dansville mountains. Pretty nice setup, actually.”

Her best friend, Lacie, who is terrified of bats, dug a minecraft-style evil lair. Lacie.

“Come on, I’ll show you! We’ll take the moped!”

When they got down to the parking level, though, Vanessa was surprised to see Perry’s hovercar still parked neatly next to the Boomshlaka. Why would he still be here? She figured that he would probably be taking the Lacie back home.

She paused, looking at it for a long moment, and felt a small twist in her stomach. “Dad? What’d you say her evil plan was again?”

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

When they arrived at the lair, Heinz signaled for Vanessa to stay back, and carefully approached. When he peered in the mouth of the cave, there was no sign of Perry the Platypus anywhere. A completely different platypus was slumped motionless on the floor. Dr. Hazard (it was insulting to call her that—no way was she actually a doctor—but he’d forgotten her actual name again. Frilly? Corduroy? Fringe…ina? It would come to him, he was sure) was typing over on her fancy computer, and it was plugged into a fedora hat somehow. PERRY’S fedora. Heinz would know that hat anywhere!

He felt absolutely sick not knowing where his poor nemesis was, but the least he could do was save that poor animal on the floor. Stepping carefully, so as not to alert her, he crept over and picked up the limp platypus. Heinz had no idea how to tell gender on a platypus, but this one was pretty big (about Perry’s size) so he guessed it was probably a male.

Heinz went to back out the way he came, and promptly tripped backwards over a stalagmite and fell on his butt. (He could always remember which were the stalaGmites and which were the stalaCtites because “stalactite” had a “C” in it and the word “ceiling” started with “C”, so the ones that came out of the ceiling were stalacti—

“What are you doing here!? Why did you follow me!?”

Oh, right. Hazard had jumped out of her chair, and was pointing her Paralytizer at him. There was a flicker of motion at the edge of his vision behind another row of stalagmites, but he was too busy staring at the weapon to look to see what it was.

Heinz slowly got back to his feet, still holding the platypus he’d found, “Because Perry the Platypus is my nemesis, and I’m not going to let you hurt him! That’s MY job!”

“I’m doing you a _favor,_ ” she said, looking at him like he was some kind of idiot, “He’s what’s _stopping_ you from taking over the tristate area!”

“He always foils my evil plans, but that’s okay! My life wouldn’t be the same without him!”

“You’re an idiot. Besides, he’s an animal. OWCA sends them out expecting most of them to die. They’re expendable.”

“He’s not just an animal to me! He’s my nemesis! …And sometimes, maybe even kind of my friend!”

She laughed. It.. it wasn’t even a very good evil laugh, to be honest. Just a laugh. So far as evil laughs go, Heinz would give it maybe a four out of ten. “I’m doing _him_ a favor, too. You have any idea what the OWCA does to their agents? What Perry had to go through to go from being a mindless animal to the.. thing.. that you’re holding?”

Heinz was baffled. “What does this platypus have to do with anything? I thought we were talking about Perry.” Man, teens could be really bad about staying on topic.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“About what?”

Meanwhile, Vanessa emerged down at the far end of the lair from behind the stalagmites, and started slowly creeping towards Hazard from behind.

“The platypus you’re holding is—nevermind, it’d take hours. Anyway, Shutting down the OWCA would probably do a _lot_ to end animal cruelty.”

“It doesn’t matter what he went through. He’s Perry the Platypus, for better or worse, and he’s going to STAY that way! Not-!” Before Heinz could finish the thought, Vanessa tackled Hazard from behind, knocking the Paralytizer out of her grasp.

“Hey! That’s mine! OW!” Hazard squirmed, but Vanessa more or less sat on her, pinning her down.

Heinz glanced down at the poor limp platypus in his arms, “What did you DO to this poor thing, anyway?”

“He can’t move, stupid. Ugh, is the hair-pulling necessary?”

“Yes,” Vanessa replied, “Yes it is”

Heinz looked around, and spotted the fedora sitting next to the computer. He quickly walked over, reached inside, and pulled out Perry’s handcuffs so they could restrain Hazard properly. Once she was effectively cuffed, Vanessa walked over and picked up the Paralytizer.

“We should destroy that,” he said, “Oh! I know! Drop it in the lava!”

“Dad, set the platypus down” she replied, fiddling with the settings on it.

Frowning a bit, Heinz set it down, then startled badly as she zapped it. “Vanessa! What are you doing!?”

“It had a reverse mode.”

The platypus rose up on his hind legs, wobbling a bit, and put the hat back on his head. Revealing that he had been Perry all along.

“Perry the Platypus!? Eh-heh, I’m a bit embarrassed about, y’know, some of those things I might have said. I don’t want you to get the impression that I don’t completely and utterly loathe you. So we’re still at odds, right?”

Perry gave him a thumbs up, then fiddled with his watch. A minute or two later, his hover car arrived at the lair entrance all by itself.

“Autopilot, eh? Fancy!”

Perry, as usual, didn’t bother to answer him. He just gestured for them to help him load Hazard into the back seat so he could take her to, uh, to wherever it was OWCA took the people they arrested. …Come to think of it, Heinz wasn’t sure where they went. He’d never actually been captured by OWCA before. And now that he thought about it, he wasn’t sure whether he was proud of that fact, or embarrassed by it.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

Later that night, Perry knocked on the door to Dr. D’s apartment. He technically wasn’t here on a mission, so he forwent the usual routine of just kicking or blasting it down. It was late, a little after midnight, but if Perry knew Doofenshmirtz he probably wouldn’t be in bed until two or three in the morning.

Naturally, Doof answered the door a bit later. He wasn’t even in his PJ’s yet. “Perry the Platypus? How surprising! And by surprising, I mean- well, actually pretty surprising. I’m not used to seeing you this late. I, uh, I haven’t done anything evil in the past seven hours since I last saw you. I mean, I’m quick, but I’m not that quick. You wanna come in? I signed up for one of those internet tea subscriptions where they send you a fancy basket of teas each month. I was just about to try them! Come on, I’ll brew you a cup.”

Perry followed him into the kitchen. The table was a bit high for him, so his nemesis took the cushions off two of the other kitchen chairs and stacked them on the remaining one so Perry could sit down but still be at a comfortable height.

“Okay, so, what kind do you want? Looks like I’ve got chamomile, valerian root, oolong, green t- oolong? Okay, oolong it is!” Perry sat quietly, watching as he brewed it and listening to his amiable chatter, but his mind was elsewhere. Lacie Foreman hadn’t been the only “incident” OWCA had had to deal with today.

At length, the tea was ready, and Heinz poured him a cup, “Careful, Perry the Platypus. It’s still a bit scalding. Hey, why’d you drop by, anyway? Is this a social call?”

Perry shook his head, and pulled the little evidence bag out of his hat to show to Heinz. Inside were three tiny microchips with little gripping hooks around the edges. He had pulled one of them off the back of Lacie’s neck. The other two had likewise been picked off teenagers who had abruptly “gone evil”.

“Hey, what are these? The circuitry almost looks like a miniature version of my Ultimate-Evil-Inator. You remember that, right? I hit Monobrow’s intern with it and he built all those robots? Yeah, you know the time. …Is that what happened to Lacie’s little friend? These made her evil?”

Perry nodded intently.

“Well,” Dr. D said, squinting at them, “They look like they’re mine, but they’re not. I don’t tend to work this small, anyway. I mean, look how big my hands are? I’d go crazy if I tried.”

Perry was disappointed, and Dr. D seemed to pick up on it immediately, “I’m sorry, Perry the Platypus. Anyone could have made these. I had all of my blueprints stolen not too long ago.”

_What!?_ The inators were brilliant works of engineering. Generally harmless in the hands of Dr. Doofenshmirtz, but if a more unsavory character had a hold of them…

“Well, what was I supposed to do? Call the police? ‘Yes. Hello. I’d like to report a crime. My evil plans have been stolen.’ I do NOT like jail, Perry the Platypus.”

Perry nodded his head, looked down, and sipped at his tea. He had a feeling that this was going to get worse before it got better.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I was a bit slower with this one. Just started a new laboratory job, so I've had less time to spend on fandom. :)

Three tests down, two to go.

Two of the potential agents had already failed, but they didn’t know it. They were too busy wrestling over a catnip mouse in the “reject” basket. The other five kittens playing around Carl’s feet, though, had passed every test so far with flying colors.

He pulled out a stopwatch and a laser pointer, and waved it back and forth on the wall. Time to test their focus. Four of them managed to pay attention the entire minute required, but a little calico who had been designated K#2 lost interest and started to wander off. Nope, lack of focus. He gently scooped her up and put her in the “reject basket” too.

K#7, a little grey tabby, came over and rubbed against his ankles, purring loudly. This was the tenth time she’d done this in as many minutes, marking her as not-agent-quality. “Sorry kiddo,” Carl said, kneeling down to scoop her up, “You’re just too friendly for this line of work.”

The kitten seemed unbothered, and was still licking his hand when he put her in the reject basket. He grinned and scratched her chin, then turned to the remaining three (which seemed to be settling into a group nap) for the final test.

Digging around in his pocket, Carl pulled out a few little bangsnaps, and tossed them near the sleepy kittens. Two of them fled in terror, but one stood his ground, bristling and hissing and bearing his tiny little fangs. Perfect.

Kind of a shame that out of a litter of seven, only K#3 was agent-quality, but it wasn’t all that unusual. Time to go round up the two that had run off, then sign K#3 up for The Procedure.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

It was in the evening when, due to a rogue wind current (and not any lack of skill on his own part), Perry had accidentally flown his jet pack into Vanessa’s level of D.E.I. instead of up in the penthouse. Her window had been open, thankfully, so there was no sound of breaking glass to alert Doofenshmirtz that he had arrived, and Vanessa herself appeared to be absent.

Today’s mission briefing had been sparse at best. Apparently Dr. D had been spotted shuffling old inators around his lab, and tinkering with them. Right now the immediate concern Monogram had voiced wasn’t that Doofenshmirtz had directly threatened anyone, just that he might be trying to actually learn from previous mistakes. Honestly, Perry thought that Dr. D actually _learning_ for once might be a good thing, but orders were orders even if the orders were dumb.

Vanessa’s apartments were laid out differently than her father’s area on the top floor, so Perry found himself a bit turned around. A lot of the rooms had small control pads on the walls; they were placed without rhyme or reason, and were clearly Doof’s work. This one was labeled a “Muffle-Inator”. His curiosity getting the better of him, Perry pressed the button.

“What do you mean, ‘no’? EVERYONE who’s opinion matters to me is going to be there!” Vanessa’s voice could clearly be heard from over his head. Huh.

“There's someone running around making teenagers the bad kind of evil and I am not going to let you get evil-ized!”

“You mean evil-inated?”

“Hey, what is that supposed to mean? I didn’t build-“ Perry hit the button again, and Doof was muffled in mid sentence. If he’d spent half the morning bickering with his daughter instead of working, he was likely far behind on his plans for the day, which meant that Perry was probably walking in with the advantage.

Entering on this level instead of above was turning out to be a great tactical decision. Perry was glad he’d thought of it.

He carefully stowed his jet pack in the hallway, then made his way upstairs to Doof’s door. The argument was still going strong.

“Vanessa, I don’t want to argue with—“ the sound of something metal hitting the floor “VANESSA! DUCK!”

“Uh oh!” came Norm’s gleeful interjection, “She didn’t duck!”

Perry hadn’t brought the equipment for blasting down the door, and Doof had replaced the deadbolt with a much sturdier one to prevent it from being kicked in, so he started to work quickly on the lock.

“DAD! I can’t go to the party like this!”

“You weren’t going anyway!”

“Change me back!”

“It, uh, it doesn’t have a reverse switch. It’ll have to wear off on its own.”

Perry finally got the door opened, only to spot another platypus in his trap. He did a doubletake, and looked at Doof.

“Sorry Perry the Platypus. We, uh, we just had a bit of an accident with the Platyp-inator.”

Perry frowned. Hadn’t he destroyed that?

“I know what you’re thinking, Perry the Platypus. ‘ _Didn’t I destroy that one?_ ’ Well, you see, that was today’s project. BEHOLD! THE REFURB-INATOR! I’ve been testing it on old Inators, and it makes them good as new! I hadn’t gotten around to actually testing any of the refurb-inated inators, but I dropped the Platyp-inator and as you can see it works just fine.”

“Mom is not going to be happy!” Norm chirped.

“Well, hopefully she won’t find out.” Doof answered, looking a bit nervous.

Perry glanced over at Vanessa, who was seething in the trap. It didn’t appear to be any sort of special-for-the-occasion trap, just one of the random ones that Doof had scattered liberally throughout the lair. He was pretty sure the Dr. D made new platypus traps for the lair whenever he was bored, as Perry could spot the triggers for five or six of them right from where he was standing. Besides, even if he had gotten caught in that one, the construction looked shoddy. The hinge on the left side of it—

“Oh no. No you don’t. She’s not allowed to date outside of her species! …Or at all!”

For a moment, Perry was genuinely baffled. Then it clicked. _Okay, Doof, gross. Give me a little credit. She looks like a yearling._

The self-destruct button on the Refurbinator was large and obviously placed, so Perry aimed a jump-kick at it—only to be caught in another platypus trap in mid-air, and left hanging by a hind leg. Really? Doof had trapped the self-destruct button? Man, he was getting better at this game.

“Rude, Perry the Platypus, very rude,” Dr. D chided, folding his arms, “You were going to blow it up before I even had a chance to explain my plan! Okay, so, there’s usually a bit of collateral damage when I unleash an inator, right? I figured I’d rebuild them all at once and unleash them on the city!”

Behind him, Vanessa found the shoddy hinges, and pulled them free, letting herself out of the trap. She tried to take a few steps on her hind legs, then wobbled and dropped down to all fours. Doof continued speaking as she headed out the front door.

“Then, once you’ve destroyed them all, I’ll simply charge people to use my Refurb-inator to fix all the damage! I’ll make millions! I just have to charge a million per use, then only two people need to fall for it! Perry the Platypus, what are you pointing at?”

He turned and looked, spotting the empty cage, “Oh no! How did she do that?”

“She could probably reach the release button with her bill!” Norm opined.

“You know what, Perry the Platypus?” Doof said, hitting the release for the trap and allowing him to drop to the floor, “I don’t care. Go ahead and blow it up. Just help me find Vanessa before she gets too far. She’s not like you. She’s probably completely helpless as a platypus!”

Perry nodded, hit the self-destruct button, and started to head downstairs. If she wasn’t used to the body, Perry sincerely doubted that she would get very far. Finding a tired platypus somewhere on the block was a more than fair trade for an easy win.

His platypus-sized jetpack, however, turned out to be missing from where he had left it in the hallway next to Vanessa’s door. He heaved a sigh, and activated the tracker for it. Vanessa had probably managed to get further away than he’d initially anticipated.


	5. Chapter 5

“Yeah, a labcoat,” Candace said, shifting the phone from one ear to another, “It was WEIRD.”

“Didn't that whole Pharmacist-chic fashion go out, like, a month ago?” Stacy asked.

“Yeah, but he was wearing one. I've never seen him dressed like that before. Is he maybe into retro stuff? Should I dress more retro?”

“I think you're probably fine, Candace.”

“But what if I'm not fine?!” Candace said, hopping off of her bed, “What if I-” something CRUNCHED under her foot and she jumped back.

_SPIDER_! SPIDER SPIDER SPIDER SPIDER!

“Candace?” Stacy sounded only mildly concerned, “Why are you screaming?”

She'd gotten on top of her dresser, somehow, and was squinting down at the eight-legged monstrosity, “Spider there's a spider in my room!”

“Oh, for crying out loud. I thought you were OVER this. Where is it?”

“On the floor!”

“Are you wearing shoes?”

“I can't take my eyes off of it to check! When you look away is when they move, Stacy!”

“ _Candace_.”

“Okay, yes, I'm wearing shoes.”

“Then step on it.”

“ _I already did step on it!_ ”

“Is it moving?”

“Well, no, but--”

“Then you've already killed it. Good job.”

Well, it hadn't moved, so against every single instinct of self-preservation she had, Candace carefully climbed down off of her dresser to move the corpse of the spindly-legged nightmare outside. Upon closer observation, though, it wasn't a spider. It was small, and shiny, and metal.

“I'm gonna have to call you back, Stacy.” She hung up the phone. “MOM! PHINEAS AND FERB SICCED A ROBOT SPIDER ON ME!”

No answer.

Candace grabbed the spider-robot and gingerly carried it down to the back yard, where Phineas and Ferb were still playing with the—whatever, it looked like some kind of mechanical parrot, who cares. “You two have some nerve!” she fumed, “You KNOW I hate spiders!”

Phineas took it from her, frowning, “This isn’t one of ours, Candace.”

“It isn’t?”

“No, but look at how tiny that circuitry is! I wonder what it does?” he rubbed his chin thoughtfully, “I suppose we could try to reverse engineer it.” He glanced over his shoulder at Ferb, “Hey Ferb! I know what we’re gonna do today!”

Ferb gestured at the parrot.

“Okay, well, I know what we’re going to do tomorrow.”

On the other side of the fence, Candace could hear their mom pulling into the drive. The sound of the car door startled the mechanical bird, which flew off into the sky. Because _of course_ it did. Of course.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

The party was already starting at the junkyard when Vanessa landed. She was just happy that she’d had enough jet pack fuel to get here. Even if she was still stuck as a platypus, that didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy herself. Nobody would recognize her so long as she didn’t speak. Hell, she might even get extra social cred for being “too cool” to show up at the party.

The DJ had been playing something new by the Scraping Fangs, and Vanessa had finally settled into the swing of things, when her dad just HAD to crash the party. In, what else, the Boomshlaka. The music stopped, and everyone stared at him.

“Vanessa!” he called, “Where aaaare you!?”

“What’s with the pharmacist?” one of her friends asked.

“I’m not a pharmacist!” he squawked in indignation, “I’m an evil scientist!”

_Ugh. I’m out._ She darted off, tripping up some hipster in the process. His fedora fell off and landed on her, but she kept going. The LAST thing she wanted was for all her friends to know she was a platypus, even temporarily.

She had made it out of the junkyard and past the Slushie Burger when someone abruptly grabbed her from behind, stuffing her in a sack. Like today couldn’t get any worse. She kicked and struggled her fiercest, but this body just didn’t have the endurance of a human one.

“Ugh! LET ME GO!”

Whoever carrying the bag paused, “You’re a girl?” That voice sounded very familiar, but she couldn’t place it.

“Yeah, obviously,” she answered, “What the hell did you take?”

“I’m not on drugs!” came the annoyed response.

“Um, you just kidnapped a platypus. What the hell?”

“I was looking for this one specific platypus and you kinda looked like him, so I grabbed you. But you’re a girl so I guess I got the wrong one.” He opened the bag to get a better look at her. …Teenager, maybe sixteen or seventeen, blond hair. She was pretty sure she’d seen him before, but she couldn’t place him. Definitely not part of her crowd, anyway.

“Which again brings us back to _you kidnapped a platypus._ Why would you _do_ that? My friend Candace has one. They don’t do much. And why are you dressed like a pharmacist?”

“Um…” he hesitated, looking down at himself, “Y’know, I have no idea.”

“Have you been feeling.. uh.. evil, recently?”

“Maybe a little…”

“Okay, look—“ before she could explain the situation, however, he was hit from behind by Perry the Platypus. The fight, if you could call it that, was incredibly brief. The blond kid just had no idea how to fight at all, much less fight a trained agent. In the space of fifteen seconds, Perry had managed to pin and handcuff him, and was feeling around on the back of his neck for something.

A moment later, he unearthed another one of those strange chips.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

Later that night, after Vanessa had changed back, Heinz intended to lay down the law. He had never been much of a disciplinarian, though. Due to his upbringing had no idea what level of severity was okay. And he wasn’t like Roger—he couldn’t just pay some nanny to do all the raising for him.

Of course, when he went down to her apartments to get her, she was gone AGAIN. Heinz had left Norm down here to keep an eye on her, but even though he was cheerfully ironing her clothes, Vanessa was nowhere in sight. Heinz was about to panic when Norm spoke up, “She left with a boy about half an hour ago.”

“She left with a boy?! Where is she!? You were supposed to keep her HERE!”

“But dad!” Norm protested, “She said she outranks me! She’s the oldest!”

“But when I’m gone, you’re in charge!”

“I thought that was conditional!”

“Well, you’re in charge when she wants to go places with boys!”

“Oh boy! Am I also in charge of the remote?”

“I guess so.”

“Oh boy! I’m going to go tell her now!”

Norm got up and walked out, whistling tunelessly to himself. Well, at least he apparently knew where she was. Heinz headed back upstairs to wait, but his nerves were on edge until Norm finally got back with his precious baby girl. When they returned, his worry was replaced by equal parts relief and anger. “Well, you are DEFINITELY grounded.”

“For how long?”

“Until I say you’re not anymore.”

“Um, I’m pretty sure indefinite incarceration without any conviction is a violation of the constitution, dad.”

That.. that sounded plausible, actually. Were grounding and incarceration synonyms? They might be. His English was excellent, but it wasn’t perfect, and—

“Norm, put me down,” Vanessa grumbled.

“Not until you say it!”

“Norm!”

“Saaaaay it!”

“Fine,” Vanessa said through gritted teeth, “You’re a good little brother and a valued member of the family. Now _put me down._ ” Norm sat her down and patted her on the head, and she immediately turned on Heinz, “Are you a complete psycho? I was just out with Monty! Nothing happened!”

“You went out after I said you weren’t allowed to go out!” Heinz said.

“ _Mom_ lets me date!”

“Well I am not your mother, young lady!”

“All me and Monty did was get a milkshake! What is the _matter_ with you? Don’t you trust me even a little?”

“I trust you,” he explained, “I just don’t trust boys.”

“Dad, I can handle boys. Remember you got me those self-defense classes, and you also made me that tazer? I’m fine. But because you sent Norm out after me, now I’m banned from the ice cream shop for life!”

“Accidentally start one little fire, and everyone takes it personally!” Norm chimed in, “Besides, I don’t think Vanessa likes him that much anyway! They were fighting!”

“Fighting?” Now Heinz was even more concerned.

Vanessa’s voice was steady as she replied, but her body language was a bit fidgety. “No, we weren’t really fighting. I mean, we argued, but—we always argue. It’s kind of our thing.”

“Vanessa?" Heinz said, his tone softening, "What was going on?”

“Ugh. Well… he was kind of making fun of you, and I called him on his bullshit because HIS dad is a total jerk and he has no business talking. That’s all.”

Heinz didn’t think he liked this boy.

“Don’t worry,” she continued, “I kind of started it, anyway. Just a little. Neither one of us takes it seriously; we’re just snarking each other.”

_Snarking?_ Heinz was not familiar with this word, but it did NOT sound like the kind of slang “ing” word he wanted his daughter to be doing with some boy! He opened his mouth to protest, but—

“’Snarking’ means ‘making fun of in a sarcastic way’. Oh my god, Dad.”

“Vanessa!” Norm interjected, “Dr. D said that I am now in charge of the remote!” Yeah, good job Norm, THAT was on topic.

“Norm,” Vanessa said, her voice angry-but-even, “If you do not shut up and go away I will make you wish I had never been born.”

“Then I would be the oldest!” he answered, beaming. It didn’t appear to be the response Vanessa wanted.

“Well,” Heinz said, folding his arms, “You are grounded until.. until your mom gets back from her business trip! Then, well, at that point you’re back in her jurisdiction again, not mine, but… I am going to be having a serious talk with her about your behavior!”

Vanessa just rolled her eyes at him, and went to stalk back downstairs.

This time, Heinz activated the security systems, shutting down the elevators and locking all doors that led to stairwells beneath Vanessa’s level of the building. Unless there was a fire or other emergency, she was at least staying inside for the rest of the night.


	6. Chapter 6

Ferb was awakened by a soft, suede-like bill nipping at his nose. He’d been having the nightmare again, the one he could never quite remember when he woke up. The only things that really stuck with him after it were the sound of screaming brakes (or tires?), an intense sensation of vertigo, and the smell of smoke. While he could never properly remember the dream, those fleeting sensations always stuck with him afterwards in a way that made his heart race and his nerves jump. It would be nearly impossible to go back to sleep.

Perry nipped him again, then chattered, so Ferb reached over and turned on the small lamp he kept next to his bed. Hopefully it wouldn’t wake up Phineas. The monotreme was sitting with his front feet on a book that he’d pulled at random from their little bookshelf. “Doing this at two in the morning is likely setting a bad precedent,” he whispered, “But I don’t think I’m going to go back to sleep, anyway.” He carefully scooped up Perry and the book, and crept downstairs so they wouldn’t wake Phineas.

Ferb sat in the big, poofy recliner, and Perry settled into his accustomed spot between Ferb’s  arm and his body. He gave his pet an affectionate squeeze, opened the novel, then began to read. “ _Mr. Utterson the lawyer was a man of a rugged countenance that was never lighted by a smile; cold, scanty and embarrassed in discourse; backward in sentiment; lean, long, dusty, dreary and yet somehow lovable_ …”

Back when they first got Perry, Ferb had been having quite a bit of difficulty learning to read. The more he tried, the further behind he seemed to slip. Phineas’s constant attempts to help him had somehow only made his lack of innate ability more frustrating. After all, his brother had taken to it like a duck to water. The contrast made his lack of progress all the more disheartening.

Then, two days after they got Perry, Mom had the brilliant suggestion that Ferb read out loud to him, because platypuses were well-known for “loving books” but “couldn’t read at all”. When he had objected that he wasn’t a very good reader and that it should be Phineas’s job, she insisted that Phineas went much too fast for Perry to follow, but Ferb’s pace would be perfect for him.

The lack of human judgment had done wonders. There was no pressure to get it right, or to go fast. Perry didn’t care if Ferb mispronounced or stumbled on a word, didn’t know that Ferb had a strange accent, and was content to just sit and stare at him adoringly. Now that he was older, Ferb knew that the little animal was probably just happy to be getting someone’s undivided attention, but at the time it had been a godsend.

For a year or two, reading to Perry before bedtime had been a nightly routine. Through all the extra time and practice, he slowly caught up to and then surpassed his classmates (though admittedly not Phineas, who was tackling the Iliad in second grade) Eventually, there was no longer much of a need for reading to Perry, and the habit slowly vanished over time. Now it was just something he did every now and then, when Perry pulled a random book off the shelf and brought it to him as a way to ask for attention.

Even now it was soothing, and before long Ferb felt his nerves settling. He had been reading for almost an hour when he heard a faint buzz from Perry. The noise was so fleeting he was sure he had imagined it, but for a moment he almost thought that his pet had buzzed like a cellphone. Perry promptly got up, hopped off the chair, and scurried off.

Perry’d never run off in the middle of being read to before. Ferb knew he was anthropomorphizing the actions of a non-sentient creature, but he couldn’t help but feel a bit hurt by it. Still, best not to dwell on it. He didn’t bother with a bookmark, just put the book back on the shelf and headed back to bed.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

Perry was livid by the time he arrived at the D.E.I. building. Apparently, the shenanigans from this morning hadn’t been enough. No. Doof had insomnia and was up to something at three in the goddamn morning, too. O.W.C.A. surveillance (most likely Baily the Bat; this was her shift) had detected Norm coming and going, apparently retrieving something for Dr. D. So Perry had had to interrupt his time at home to find out what that was. At three. In. The. Morning.

He landed on the ground level, intending to use the elevator, only to find that it was locked down. The stairwells were also completely impassible. Seriously? That was a _fire hazard._ With a huge sigh, he headed outside to scale the building (there wasn’t enough wind to make it feasible to take off with the glider from ground-level.) It took the better part of half an hour, and by the time he reached the overhang, his shoulders were aching.

Perry climbed over the railing, hopped down, and immediately triggered one of the traps. He didn’t land on it square, though; he was off-center. Instead of dropping cleanly around him, the damn cage hit his leg. He clamped his bill shut to avoid giving a pained squawk, but that was going to be a huge, stiff bruise tomorrow.

“Perry the Platypus?” Doof said, sounding groggy and about as cross as Perry felt. …It looked like he had fallen asleep watching some Spanish soap opera on TV. “What on earth are you doing here this late? Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely detest our time together, but I can’t just be up for a thwarting 24/7, you know. I’m not a machine! Don’t I get some personal time, too?”

He got up and trudged over to the cage, stumbling a little, giving Perry a sour look. “You need some respect for boundaries, Perry the Platypus. I mean, it is _three thirty six in the morning_. Why are you here?”

Really. _Really_. Perry pointed at Norm, who was shut down over in the corner.

“What, Norm? What about him?” Heinz scratched his side.

Perry chattered, and gestured behind himself, to the city.

“What? Oh, I was getting phantom pain in my arms. Well, my lack of arms. I told you about the titanium thing, right?” He rapped his knuckles against the metal prosthetics for emphasis, “Well, it was keeping me up, and you can’t really, y’know, take pain killers when the pain is coming from nerves that don’t really, uh, don’t really exist. So I sent Norm out to get me some almond brittle to take my mind off of it. Which, you know, totally worked until just now when I had to explain it to you, so thanks for that. _Thanks a lot,_ Perry the Platypus.”

He’d been pulled away from home for _this?_ Dr. D was buying almond brittle. Clearly a matter of national security. This was worse than last week, when Monogram had summoned Perry to headquarters at five am to get rid of “the hugest spider ever” (it was a cricket). Normally, Perry would have felt bad for waking Doofenshmirtz like this, but right now he couldn’t help but glare in frustration.

“Oh no. No. You don’t get to make that face. You’re the jerk who woke ME up. Don’t you sass me. I have gotten more than enough sass for one lifetime today!” He kneeled down, getting eye-level with Perry, “I should just leave you in that cage overnight until tomorrow, when I am _good and ready_ to be thwarted! What do you think about that? Jokes on you, you can’t tell me what you think, because you don’t tal—“

Perry bit his nose.

“OW! Okay, okay, I stand corrected, but you’re still a jerk. A total jerk. You know what, I’m not even going to MAKE an inator tomorrow. How’s that? Nope. No inator to break and no punching me. You’re just going to have to entertain yourself for a day. I’m taking some me-time. No thwarting for you. Maybe no thwarting until you apologize!”

Dr. D lifted the cage off of him, and made a shooing gesture. “Now get out of here while I TRY to get back to sleep. Go on. Leave.”

Fur still bristling, Perry activated his hang-glider and leapt off of the balcony to head for home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops my hand slipped and there were two chapters in one day.


	7. Chapter 7

The next morning at breakfast, Perry was feeling much better. Honestly, he felt a little bad for how things had gone the previous night. He probably did owe his nemesis an apology.

Around five in the morning, he had received a message demanding that he come in to headquarters ASAP. It wasn’t marked as a red-alert, though, so Perry had pretended not to see it. Not out of laziness or irritation or anything juvenile like that, of course. Just he physically needed time to sleep and recover.

And right now, there was something other than O.W.C.A. that demanded his attention. Linda was making bacon and pancakes and eggs for breakfast, and it smelled _amazing._ Not to mention platypuses needed to eat 25% of their body weight per day. That was _basic science_. Obviously he should eat before he left. Bacon and eggs and pancakes were good sources of the protein, fat, and carbs he would need to be at his most effective out in the field. Really, he’d be a bad agent if he DIDN’T stay for breakfast. He made a beeline for the kitchen, where he promptly sat on Linda’s foot and made his best cute face.

“There’s food in your bowl, Perry,” she said without even looking down at him. Damn. The ‘sit on her foot’ thing had worked exactly twice in five years, both during the first month he lived here, but he still tried it every time nonetheless. Who knew, maybe one of these days it would work again.

Linda was a hard sell, anyway. Really, he needed to ask the biggest softie in the whole house. So, Perry headed back under to the kitchen table and tried to climb up into Lawrence’s lap.

“You’re going to get us both in trouble again,” he mumbled, gently returning Perry to the floor. Perry climbed up into his lap again.

After about the fifth repeat, Lawrence gave him a strip of bacon for his trouble. The texture of bacon made it difficult for Perry to manage, but the flavor was worth it. Once he had finished his strip, he pawed insistently at Lawrence’s leg, earning him another piece of salty, fatty, bacony heaven.

“You’re not slipping food to Perry, are you?”

“What? No, of course not dear.”

“Lawrence.”

“Oh, come on, Linda. A nip of bacon isn’t going to do him any harm.”

“This is why he begs at the table. Candace, eat your eggs.”

The teenager heaved a huge sigh.

Linda was paying too much attention to Lawrence for Perry to get any more bacon, so time for the SECOND biggest softie. He crossed under the table and put his head in Phineas’s lap. Platypus needs food badly. Phineas patted his head. “May I please have another pancake, Mom?”

“Of course, sweety.”

Half that pancake ended up underneath the table when Linda wasn’t looking, and it was delicious. Perry licked the floor to make sure that there would be no tell-tale drops of syrup left. It wasn’t that he was a greedy little pet, of course. Licking it up was purely to hide the evidence. Obviously any human agent would have done exactly the same thing.

Finally, he just went over and sat next to Candace’s chair. She didn’t like being touched with his paws or his bill, so he simply sat there in the corner of her field of vision. Candace wasn’t at all a softie, but she was the type to know a good opportunity when she saw it. She shot him a furtive glance, then looked to see if her mom was watching. A few seconds later, a pair of beautiful sunny-side-up eggs had been stealthily dropped on his face. He did her a favor and cleaned them up.

Perry didn’t bother to check his bowl, just headed out the back door, and around the side of the house to an entrance to his lair.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

Heinz hated to admit it, but he’d been a bit of a jerk last night. He wasn’t upset with Perry; not really. He had been stressed out by Vanessa, and his arms were hurting, and he had taken it out on his nemesis. Still, though, he couldn’t back down from his “not going to make an inator” ploy. What kind of message would he send if he said he wasn’t going to be thwarted, then gave Perry the opportunity to thwart him anyway? His nemesis might lose all respect for him. No, he would stick to his guns, at least for today. He would make something tomorrow.

Still, it felt odd to just do _nothing,_ so Heinz had ended up spending the morning talking himself into and out of getting a cat. After all, lots of evil villains had cats. It would be very thematically appropriate. But it might be a bit cliché, too. There was a lot of grey area, there. Too much. Eventually, though, he’d finally decided on “get a cat”. After all, he’d bought all that cat stuff for Mr. Fluffypants, and now it was all just sitting there unused. Throwing it away seemed like it would be such a waste, but he couldn’t exactly donate it to the animal shelter either, now could he? What if someone saw him? So that left “get a new cat” as really his only viable choice.

“I will take this one!” he said, setting the kitten on the counter. Its fur was all short and weird looking, but he kind of liked it. It gave it a scruffy charm.

The clerk looked at him strangely, though, and checked a clipboard she had stowed under the counter, “Um, I don’t think I can sell to you.”

“You can and you will!”

“Aren’t you the guy who owns the robot that was shaving all our cats like a week ago?”

Heinz fidgeted, “I, uh, no. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I’m going to have to check your ID.”

With a sigh, Heinz handed over his driver’s license.

“Yeah, sorry. I can’t sell any animals to the Doofenshmirtz household. Manager ban.”

“But the poor kitten! Look at how ugly he is! I just want to take them home and love them!”

The clerk gave a small shrug, “Not my rule, sorry. You could try, like, the Animal Rescue Center or something.”

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

Carl was manning the counter at the Animal Rescue Center. They ran this little front on the weekends from eight in the morning to eight at night, and it was one of the easiest ways to place domestic-class agents. He’d been hoping that Perry would have come in to headquarters this morning before his shift started, but no such luck.

Oh well. Carl was sure he’d get the full report on how things had gone.

He was in his usual “African American Female Clerk” disguise, which was so uncomfortable in more ways than one. But trying to explain the concept of “problematic” to Major Monogram was kind of like trying to teach a frog to work a hang-glider. Carl had spent hours on both tasks, and had succeeded at neither.

The bell on the front door jingled. “Hi, welcome to the Animal Rescue Center,” he said, not looking up from his game of solitaire, “Can I help you?”

“Yes. I would like a kitten!”

What. _What._ It was Dr. Heinz Doofenshmirtz. For a minute, Carl panicked. What was he doing here? Did he know this was a front? I mean, to know he’d just have to read the sign out front, but had he done that? There was no subtle way to call for backup. Carl was on his own.

“U-uhm… let me check in the back real quick…” he said, his voice higher-pitched than he intended it to be, then darted into the back room. They _really should_ have installed a way to contact headquarters back here. He looked around, and his eyes fell on the carrier of kittens that had been determined ‘not agent quality’. Those were going to a pet store anyway, right? So Doof could just as easily have picked up one of them there.

“Sorry, guys,” Carl mumbled, reaching in and pulling out a little tabby. It purred loudly and started licking his hand. Cradling it gently, he took the kitten back out to the main room.

“That one will be perfect!” Doof dug around in his pockets for a moment, “You guys can take checks, right?”

“Yeah, of course.” Carl immediately kicked himself. If he’d said ‘no’ he would have had an excuse to turn the evil scientist away.

He looked down at the kitten in his hands. _Good luck, kiddo._


	8. Chapter 8

“Have you found it yet?” Phineas said, glancing over at Ferb.

He shook his head.

After breakfast, they had come upstairs to get the weird little chip that Candace had found. But it was missing from the bedside table. The lamp had been knocked on the floor though, along with the little tin of dried mealworms they kept as treats for Perry.

He ducked under the bed again, looking to see if it had made its way under there somehow. How could it have just vanished from the room entirely? It was right there when they went to eat breakfast. Phineas couldn’t help but wonder if this is how Candace felt all the time. “I don’t see it anywhere, Ferb. Do you think maybe he mistook it for a spider and ate it?”

Ferb nodded.

“Well, shoot. I guess we’re going to have to come up with something else to do today.”

Ferb nodded again, but Phineas could tell his heart wasn’t in it. He seemed really sad and tired today, though it was hard to put your finger on exactly why. Maybe Ferb hadn’t slept well last night? After all, Perry hadn’t come back to Phineas’s bed at all. Usually if one of them was having trouble sleeping, Perry would stay on that person’s bed all night to keep them company.

“Oh! I know! We could do that idea from the other day, and see if we can get mom’s car to break the sound barrier.”

Ferb raised one eyebrow, and his complexion got ever so slightly paler. No. Total no-go.

“No? Okay, okay….  Human-sized hamster balls?”

Ferb gave him a thumbs up.

* * *

* * *

* * *

Vanessa was having to split her attention between eating her lunch, and guarding her lunch. She had no idea what had possessed her dad to just up and buy a cat, but it was very interested in trying to steal her lunch. Upon reflection, though, was lunch really worth defending? It was some Drusselsteinian nightmare stew that her dad had made. If this is what all the food was like over there, it was a wonder he hadn’t starved as a kid.

 _Y’know what, fuzzy. Go nuts._ She quit guarding the bowl, and allowed the kitten to investigate. It took one lick of the stew, made the most epic ‘yuck face’ she had ever seen on any animal, then immediately lost interest. _Yeah. Thought so._

“Dad. Why is this kitten here?”

“I got her this morning. Isn’t she just precious?” he beamed. Vanessa was unmoved.

“You realize the ‘buy a cute animal for me’ thing quit working when I was seven, right? I’m still mad at you.”

“Well, that’s fine, because it’s my kitten.”

Vanessa poked at the fuzzball with her spoon. The kitten purred and rubbed it’s face against it. “So, what sort of inator is it for?”

“It’s not for an Inator,” he sounded a little exasperated, “I just got a pet. I had all that cat stuff sitting around anyway and it seemed like a shame not to use it.”

Vanessa decided not to comment on the fact that she had once walked in on him using the scratching post to trim his nails. “So, can Monty come hang out today?”

“You’re still grounded for sneaking out.”

“Well, yeah,” Vanessa said, “But being grounded just means I can’t go out. It doesn’t mean I can’t have friends come over.”

Her dad looked up from his soup and raised an eyebrow at her, “And you really think it is a good idea to have Major Monogram’s son come _here?_ ”

Okay, she kind of had to give him that. “No, no I don’t.”

“Besides, once your mom gets back, you’ll be ungrounded, and you can spend some time with him then. But _no kissing._ ”

Hey, if she continued making progress with Dad at this rate, in ten years or so she might be allowed to hold Monty’s hand. “Yeah, mom doesn’t mind him hanging out. She’s too busy mooning over Charles to care.” She couldn’t help but say ‘Charles’ as though if it were a foul word.

“Charles?”

“Yeah. He’s the tool she’s dating now. He’s one of those aggressively friendly types. Y’know, the kind who feels like they’re being friendly AT you, not TO you?”

“I know the kind. Hey, Norm, do the dishes!”

“Yes sir!” Norm scooped the dishes off of the table. He almost scooped the kitten into the wash-bin too, but Vanessa grabbed it at the last second.

“He’s so irritating,” she said, rubbing the kitten behind the ears. It purred loudly. “He’s always calling me ‘kiddo’ and ‘sport’ and crap like that. I don’t know if he thinks he’s my dad or what, but he’s not.”

“Of course he’s not! _I’m_ your dad!”

You know, the timing might be good right now. “Yeah. You’re a MUCH better dad than he could ever be.”

Dad just grinned, “Still no tattoo.”

_Damn it._


	9. Chapter 9

The “rookie” quarters at O.W.C.A. headquarters were sparse; rows of well-lit cages with food and water dishes, small beds, and litter boxes. There were some other accommodations, depending on species (for example, he had a scratching post and the snake across the aisle had a basking lamp), but for the most part it was obvious that every expense had been spared.

The night before, K#3 (or as he’d come to start thinking of himself, “Three”) had never been so happy to see that little plush bed again. Yesterday’s training with his new mentor had been exhausting; they had kept working for at LEAST six hours after every other mentor/rookie group had left the training room. After being put through the ringer like that, Three had dropped off into a deep, dreamless sleep.

That wonderful oblivion was abruptly interrupted by the sound of his cage door opening. He tried to pretend that he hadn’t heard it and was still asleep, but Agent P was having none of it. The platypus picked up Three by the scruff of his neck and set him on his feet.

_Fine, fine. I’m coming._

Three was surprised to find that they weren’t heading back to the training room, but to a waiting hovercar. Really? He was going to get to learn to drive? With an excited purr, Three hopped into the driver’s seat, only to have Agent P unceremoniously shove him into the passenger seat. Okay, apparently not. …There was a bowl of kitten chow waiting for him, though, so he settled in to work on that while his mentor flew the car. (Instead of doing the obvious thing, and teaching Three how to fly the car.)

They parked in the alleyway next to a tall, oddly shaped building, and Agent P led him up to the top floor. He picked the lock on the door, then reached around, re-locked it, shut it, and handed the lockpick to Three and gave him an expectant look. What? Was Three supposed to have learned it just from watching him? That was insane. That was so stupid.

Still, he tugged his hat down tighter around his ears and tried. He fiddled with the pick for a while, but the lock didn’t budge. After a few minutes of no progress, Agent P put a webbed “hand” over Three’s paw and guided him, showing him how it felt when the tumblers moved the correct way. He then re-locked the door and made Three try again. Five attempts and twenty minutes later, Three managed to unlock the door on his own, and they made their way in.

Three rushed in, and was immediately trapped in—what was this? A sweater with no sleeves? Whatever it was, it was made out of yarn and made him feel like a burrito. Agent P walked in behind him, picked up his little grey hat, dusted it off, and set it back on his head. He DIDN’T, however, get him out of the trap, because apparently platypuses are _stupid_.

“Ah, Perry the Platypus,” came the greeting from a _very tall_ human with an imposing accent, “I, uh, I actually DID have an Inator prepared for you, but SOMEONE hit the Self-Destruct button to test it. I’m not mentioning any names, but Norm knows who he is.”

“I said I was sorry!”

The evil genius gave the giant robot a look.

“Well, if I didn’t I meant to!”

“So, uh, anyway, we don’t really have any evil to—hey, is that a new trainee?”

Agent P nodded, and actually allowed the evil pharmacist to pick Three up _._ _What the hell, agent. At least make an effort!_ Three gave a fierce, intimidating hiss from his yarn burrito to let the villain know that he was not a force to be trifled with.

“Ooh, very nice. Try adding a little bit of growl to it next time!” the evil genius paused, looking at Agent P, “You know, Perry the Platypus you’d be very intimidating if you growled every now and then. I’m sure platypi can make all sorts of intimidating noises.”

Agent P rolled his eyes, and made a chattering sound. Three looked down, and noticed a kitty face that was very much like his own peering up at him from the pocket of the evil pharmacist’s lab coat. The other kitten gave a sleepy yawn and started to groom her face. Three found himself unsettled for reasons he couldn’t quite put a whisker on.

“No no no, you see, that’s a cute sound. You need something more menacing.”

The platypus gave a small shrug, and chattered again.

“Really? That’s the only sound you make? Huh. I guess I always assumed platypi had a bigger range.” The villain set Three back down next to Agent P. Since his mentor was apparently useless, Three went back to struggling to free himself.

 Agent P, meanwhile, pointed at an old, broken laser of some sort across the lair.

“Huh? Oh, sure, go ahead. Let me know if you need anything.”

After Three freed himself (no thanks to Agent P), his mentor led him over to the device, and started showing him various ways to disarm it. There were plugs that could be pulled out of the wall, self-destruct buttons that could be hit, a control panel that could be activated, wires that could be pulled or chewed….

They had been at it for almost an hour when Three was surprised by another human voice, this one female. “So, what are they doing?”

“Perry the Platypus is training a new agent! And since he doesn’t have anything evil of his own laying around, he’s practicing here!”

“And… you’re cool with that. Letting your nemesis train in your house.”

“It’s not like he’s hurting anything.”

Just then, Agent P’s wrist communicator thing buzzed. Three was jealous. Why didn’t he get one of those yet? The agent produced a pair of earbuds out of his hat, listened to the message, looked alarmed, and rushed to leave.

Three ran after him, only to be abruptly stopped by his mentor. _No, you stay here._ It didn’t make any sense, but the “stay” gesture was pretty unmistakable. Stay here. In the evil lair. Really. The agent didn’t elaborate any further; even if he could have, Three doubted that he would.

Just as the front door shut behind Perry, a booming voice rang out from overhead. “TREMBLE BEFORE ME TRI-STATE AREA! THIS STORM WILL BE YOUR LAST!”

“Is that _Monty?_ ” the girl said, looking very alarmed, “Dad, you have to get me up there. Maybe I can talk him down.”

“Perry the Platypus can handle it, I’m sure of it.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t think that Monty is as explosion-resistant as you are. _Please._ ”

Stupid. _So_ stupid. How was he supposed to get any training if Agent P left him behind when a REAL mission started? Three’s eyes landed on the pocket of the evil pharmacist’s lab coat, and he couldn’t help but smile. He had an idea.


	10. Chapter 10

Well, today was shaping up to be the most stressful day ever. What the hell did half of these buttons even do?

“Sir, m-maybe we should just let Agent P handle this! I’m not used to flying a helicopter!”

“Nonsense, Carl! Agent P will probably need backup for this one, and all the other agents are busy!”

“I’m not sure you’ll have the emotional distance to—“

“Carl! Be quiet and steer this thing!”

Carl wasn’t sure if ‘steering’ was the correct term for navigating in a helicopter, but he shut up and focused on the task at hand. Up ahead, on the large platform that Monty had somehow managed to build in five hours, were a series of large lightning-generators he’d been using to rain havoc on the city around him. Fortunately for them, right now he was too involved in hand-to-hand combat with a platypus to shoot down a helicopter.

The platform was a relatively small one, and Carl circled it uneasily, not sure what to do now.

“CARL! What are you doing? We need to land!”

“There’s no room, sir!”

“Yeah, well DOOFENSHMIRTZ managed to land on it.”

Carl glanced out the window. The evil scientist and his daughter had indeed landed their little flying platform thing on the edge of Monty’s. She was running towards the fight, and some little grey animal was crawling up out of Doof’s pocket. “Doofenshmirtz is on a tiny hovercraft, not a full-size helicopter, sir.”

“Ugh. Just get me close enough to jump down.”

“But sir--!”

“Just do it! I don’t pay you to question my judgment!”

“You don’t pay me at all!"

"Carl! That's an order!”

With a sigh, Carl edged their way closer, and the next few moments seemed to happen in slow motion. The air turbulence from the main rotor blade of the helicopter proved to be too much for the little grey animal (kitten?) on Doof’s lab coat, and it lost its grip and went flying. The critter saved itself from being flung off the weather-control platform to the street below by grabbing a lever, but the lever shifted as it was grabbed, causing the wind created by the weather machine to turn into a gale.

The helicopter started to shake violently in the wind, and as Carl lost control of it, the last thing he saw was Doof’s flying platform skidding sideways across Monty’s stationary one, crashing into everything on it. Then the world just turned into a sickening blur of ground-sky-ground-sky-ground-sky was the copter spun out of control in the high winds.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

The next thing Three knew, he was swimming for his life in deep water that appeared to stretch endlessly in all directions.. It was salty on his tongue and stung his eyes and made his fur cling to him in a cold, miserable way. His fedora was long gone. Elsewhere in the water, he could see the smoke and fire of a crashed helicopter, but swimming towards it seemed like a bad idea, so he just desperately treaded water and tried to figure out what to do next.

Fortunately, that was decided for him after a few minutes. Agent P swam up, and gave him a hard look. Three couldn’t help but immediately feel ashamed of himself. He was in deep trouble and he knew it. All he’d wanted was to help fight some REAL evil; he hadn’t mean to get them all blown out into the ocean. Agent P came up underneath him, lifting him clear of the water, and started to swim purposefully south. Somehow, the platypus still had _his_ hat. What had he done, staple it to his head? That was crazy. How did he still have his hat?

Three was still trying to puzzle out the logistics of keeping a hat on your head while clinging desperately to an out of control flying platform in hurricane-force winds when Agent P dropped him on the warm sand of the island. He gave Three a very, very hard look, then turned and dove back into the water without a second glance.

Nearby, the evil pharmacist’s daughter was vomiting up salt water while he and Monogram’s son argued with each other.

“I was just--!”

“You were kissing my daughter! No boy kisses my daughter!”

“She wasn’t breathing! I was doing CPR!”

“But--!”

“Dad,” the girl managed to rasp out, “J-just stop, okay?”

“Hey,” the boy said, looking around, “Where’s Perry?”

Perry, as it turns out, was dragging Carl out of the water too. Monogram was swimming after them on his own power, and keeping up surprisingly well with the platypus. (Of course, Perry being slowed down by towing a teenager probably helped).

“Dad!” the boy said, running over, “Thank god you’re okay?”

“Bah,” Monogram said, pulling off his jacket to wring it out, “What’s a little ocean going to do?”

“I’m so sorry about all that. I-I have no idea what happened. One minute I was practicing my gymnastics, and the next I was building this huge weather machine.”

“It’s alright. I know it’s not your fault. Now come on, we need to establish a perimeter.”

Three, meanwhile, went to walk off to find some privacy so he could lick himself dry, only to be grabbed from behind by someone’s gross hands and lifted into the air. He was having exactly none of that, so he sank all four of his eyeteeth into one of the fingers to let whoever it was know the error of their ways.

“OW!” the girl squawked, dropping him. He landed skillfully on his feet. “Dad! Grazie just bit me!”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he replied, “Grazie is over here with me.” The pharmacist was, in fact, fussing over the kitten that had been in his other pocket.

Great. So not only was Three in deep trouble with his mentor and stuck on the island with some villains, there was a stupid brainless Other Cat here, too. And, as any cat could easily tell you, Other Cats are usually assholes. Fantastic. He hissed to himself, and stalked off to work on drying his fur.


	11. Chapter 11

While Monogram _hopefully_ was getting to work setting up a base of operations, Perry was working on scouting the island for resources or signs of habitation. Finding fresh water had been the priority, and he had been pleased to discover that the island had many inland fresh water springs teeming with all sorts of delicious invertebrate life. He wasn’t sure about food supplies for the others, but he’d be well-set. He also found a small hot spring. The water was way, way too hot for any sensible creature to intentionally swim in, but humans for some reason enjoyed scalding water so who knows, maybe they’d like it.

He had also come across many, many other platypus trails. Perry really didn’t give it much thought until he saw _her._ She was sunning herself on an exposed rock in the middle of a small pond, and she was the most beautiful platypus he had ever seen. Soft and round, with lush, dark brown fur, and a thick, flat tail. She groomed her delicate bill for a moment, then paused and looked at him—and then he saw her eyes. Her empty, _empty_ eyes.

Perry was immediately, intensely creeped out in an uncanny-valley sort of way. He mentally gave himself a harsh kick. What else had he expected? Of course she was mindless. Platypuses weren’t.. they weren’t intelligent animals. It was for the best, anyway. He had to stay focused. As a secret agent, he didn’t have time for this sort of nonsense, anyway. He had his job, and that was all he needed.

Another platypus, a _very_ large male with only one eye, climbed up onto the rock next to her, and sent a threatening rattle in Perry’s direction. _All yours, mate,_ he thought, ducking back into the undergrowth to make as dignified an exit as he could manage. Nothing there worth getting stung over.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

Vanessa and her dad, meanwhile, were following Carl back to a small camp that had been hastily constructed.

“Agent P was supposed to help,” the intern explained, “But nobody knows where he went.”

Her dad looked concerned, “Perry the Platypus is missing?”

“I wouldn’t worry about Agent P,” Carl said as they arrived, “He knows how to take care of himself. Oh, hi kitty!” He reached down to pet a little grey tabby, only to have it grab his hand with both front paws and bite down. “Ow! OW! Feisty little guy…”

“Hey, Dad,” Vanessa joked, “I think your evil wore off on that kitten.”

“No way!” he said, looking mildly offended, “I don’t bite things.”

The shelter that Monty and Major Monogram had thrown together was, uh, a little lack-luster, but at least they’d be out of the sun and rain. Monty was sitting in the shade, so she walked over and sat down nearby, pretending not to see the look her dad gave her.

The little grey kitten followed, and climbed up onto Monty’s shoulder for a better vantage point. It looked around intently, like it was trying to keep lookout.

“Careful, Monty,” she said, “That one is a biter.”

“Nah, Carl just doesn’t understand cats.” He reached up to scratch it behind the ears, and the kitten immediately sank its tiny little demon teeth into his knuckles. Tell a guy that the universe is infinite and he’ll totally believe you. Tell a guy that an animal bites, and he has to stick his fingers in its face _just to be sure._

“Shut up, Vanessa,” Monty said, shaking his hand out. He scruffed the kitten, pulled it off his shoulder, and gently set it back on the ground. It hissed at him, but didn’t bite again.

Major Monogram walked up, carrying an armful of fireword. Carl was tagging along after him, as usual.

“It looks fine, Carl. It’s just a little cat bite.”

“But sir! Cat bites have an 85% rate of infection! I think he hit bone!”

“Stop whining, Carl,” Monogram responded in a gruff tone, “It’ll heal. Now help me get this signal fire built.”

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

Later that afternoon, Heinz was dozing by the signal fire. His cell phone had fortunately been turned off when they hit the water, so with any luck the circuits in it were still okay. He just had to give it time to dry out. Vanessa was still within sight, even if there was that boy hanging around. …Really, he had to hand it to Francis. None of the kids seemed inclined to get up to shenanigans when he was around.

Grazie, meanwhile, walked over to the other kitten, and attempted to rub her cheek against it in a friendly way—directly translated it meant “I own you”, which for cats is roughly equivalent to saying “I love you”. Housecats and ocelots shared a common (if not terribly complex) language, so it was an easy enough exchange for Heinz to read.

The other cat was having none of it. He raked a paw full of claws down her face, causing her to flee back to Heinz. The strange kitten chased her, but Heinz blocked him with an arm and growled under his breath. It got the point across, and the other kitten stalked off. Grazie, meanwhile, just climbed under his labcoat and shivered. He scooped her up, rubbing her chin, “It’s okay, Grazie, that other kitten is just a meanieface.”

She batted at his nose, purring.

“Carl!” Monogram said, “Go do some recon. See if there’s any food on the island!” Heinz was starting to feel bad for the kid. Francis had been barking orders at him all day.

“But sir, you know I have asthma and an infected cat bite! Why can’t someone else go?”

“Because I told YOU to.”

The intern heaved a sigh, and got to his feet. “Yes, sir.” He started to trudge off, but paused to look back at them. “Anyone want to come with?”

“I’ll go,” Vanessa said, starting to get up.

“No. Absolutely not,” Heinz said. There was no telling what might be out there. No way was his helpless little girl going to go into the wilderness with only a lightweight intern to protect her.

“Oh my god, Dad. I’m not going to do anything with Carl. He—“

“Please don’t say hurtful things,” Carl cut her off.

“I’ll go,” Monogram’s son said, getting to his feet, “Beats sitting around here, anyway.”


	12. Chapter 12

“I don’t see why he’s making us do this,” Carl grumbled, “Agent P is probably out scouting the island, anyway.”

Monty figured it was probably because his dad was tired of listening to Carl whine, but he wasn’t going to say so. “Maybe he really trusts your judgment.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, maybe. …Too bad Doof is keeping Vanessa cooped up at the camp.”

“Well, girl like that, what do you expect? He’s probably beating the guys away with a stick-inator. …So what are we looking for? Like, fruit or native wildlife or something? I don’t really know how to hunt.”

Somehow, Monty wasn’t shocked that Carl didn’t have much in the way of wilderness survival skills. “Probably focus on fruit,” Monty said, pausing as a wild platypus wandered fearlessly onto the path in front of them, “Heh, are platypus edible?”

“I don’t think Agent P would appreciate that,” Carl said, giving him a look that made it clear he’d totally missed that Monty was kidding.

“It was a joke, Carl. Besides, aren’t they poisonous or something?”

“Venomous. And it’s only the adult males.” Carl grabbed a branch, and used it to poke at the platypus, “Shoo! Move little guy!” It blinked stupidly at him, then shuffled off the trail.

“What’s the difference?”

“In a nutshell, if it bites you and you die, it’s venom; if you bite it and you die, it’s poison.”

“So no problem,” Monty joked, “We just need to be careful to eat a brown one, not a teal one.”

Carl gave him a sour look, “Like last November when we ‘lost’ Agent T?”

Monty winced. He’d completely forgotten about that. For a long while, they walked along in uncomfortable silence. There were a lot of bugs, a lot of ponds, and a lot of platypuses, but they didn’t seem to be finding much else. At least things couldn’t get any more awkward.

“Hey, Monty? Do you play _Magic: The Gathering?_ ”

Okay. Apparently they could. “Uh… no, not really.”

Carl brightened, “Oh! I could show you how to play next time I get a day off!”

“Yeah, uh… sure.” Thank god his dad never gave interns any time off. He climbed over a huge log, waited for Carl to scramble over after him, then immediately continued at a brisk pace.

After another few minutes of uneasy silence, though, Carl tried again. “You know, I got sent on a field mission once!”

“Oh yeah?” Monty swatted at a mosquito.

“Yeah, he thought that Agent P's host family might be working for Dr. D, so I had to dress like a 12 year old and check it out. ....I-It really took a lot of disguise work, though, since.. since I'm clearly much older.”

Monty was pretty sure that would have taken zero disguise work at all. “What’d they do to make him suspicious? Not that it takes much. I know one time he sent Agent P out because Doof ordered a pizza online.”

“Doofenshmirtz doesn’t actually even have to do anything,” Carl admitted, “He once actually had Agent P flying in circles around Doofenshmirtz Evil Incorporated just WAITING for him to do something.”

Monty was feeling fine, but his companion was already looking out of breath and wheezy, so he stopped and sat down to let the little guy catch his breath. “So, if we’re stuck here, who’s going to be sending out the agents?”

“Well, the nursery is outfitted with remote alarms. If I don’t go in and check on the prospective agents every four or five hours, it’ll let the nearby sectors know something is wrong and that they need bottlefed.”

The nursery always made Monty feel a little sad and uncomfortable, though he couldn’t put his finger on why. He tilted his head, giving Carl an evaluating look, “How do you do it?”

“Do what?” the intern took a few puffs from an inhaler.

“How can you stand to train the new agents when you know there’s no guarantee they’ll be okay? I don’t think I could do it.”

Carl shrugged a little. “I try not to get too attached. Hey, does this look infected to you?” He tried to show the cat-bite, but Monty ignored it.

“How can you not get attached, though? I mean, you _bottle feed_ them.”

“The first step is not to name them. That’s the host family’s job, anyway. I also always try to call them by their official designation instead of a name.” Carl fidgeted a little, “I always hate it when we get a bad mission, though. It can be kind of hard to watch.”

Monty couldn’t help but feel bad. “At least you don’t lose agents often, right?”

“Come on,” Carl said, getting back to his feet, “We need to keep looking.”

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

Three was sitting on the beach by himself and seething. He’d tried grooming himself for an hour or two to feel better, but all that had accomplished was giving him a hairball. Really, he’d have preferred to go take a nap by the nice big fire they’d built, but that’d only lead to more manhandling. It was ridiculous. You didn’t see them constantly sticking their hands all up in Agent P’s personal space, but apparently it was totally cool to just grab the rookie like he was some stupid little animal.

And speaking of stupid little animals, he’d concluded that “Grazie” was simultaneously the creepiest thing on the planet AND the stupidest thing on the planet, too. It was skeevy seeing something that looked almost exactly like him but had no brain. And SHE seemed to think that she knew him and they should be buddies, which somehow made it worse.

Plus on top of the uncanny valley issues, somehow his brain felt itchy whenever he looked at her. Almost that feeling you get when you’re reaching for a word, but can’t find it. It felt like he had forgotten something important, which was stupid. What could have possibly ever been important about some villain’s rando pet cat? It was dumb. That it was bothering him was even MORE dumb.

Three caught motion out of the corner of his eye, and spotted Perry walking along the tree line back to where their camp was. Maybe with his mentor nearby, the others would treat him with the respect an agent-in-training deserved. He got up with a yawn and a stretch, and started to follow Agent P, who didn’t even bother to look at him. Really? _Really?_ Somehow being ignored was infuriating.

Three let out his most fierce mew to demand attention—then watched in amazement as Agent P startled _badly._ He’d never seen the platypus jump like that before. Had… had he actually _surprised_ him? Agent P was famed for being a _master_ of situational awareness, and here Three had just managed to get the jump on him. He couldn’t help but purr.

Agent P, meanwhile, gave him an evaluating look, then signed for him to “wait here” before darting back off into the undergrowth. Three waited impatiently. An agonizing forty-seven seconds later, Perry came back with two small, straight sticks. He pulled Three up so he was standing on his hind legs, then gave him a stick to grip with his forepaws.

Two legs were awkward and uncomfortable compared to four, but for some reason Agent P always insisted he be bipedal during training. Three was slowly starting to get the hang of it. The platypus slowly swung his stick at Three’s face, and he ducked down to avoid it. Perry gave a small nod of approval, and then launched another slow attack, this one down near his legs. That one, Three blocked with his own stick. Another approving nod.

This went on for a while, Agent P launching slow attack after slow attack, each one painfully telegraphed. They had been at it for a long while before Three noticed that the swings and strikes were coming faster and faster. His mentor was still telegraphing badly, giving every move away before he made it, but Three was getting less and less time to think of a response. Dodge block block sidestep duck dodge block, one right after another. Just as Three was starting to get exhausted by the barrage, it ended as quickly as it had started. Agent P gave him a fleeting smile, then turned to head back to the camp.

Three tried to follow on two legs, but after about ten steps he gave up, dropped to all fours, and ran to catch up.


	13. Chapter 13

The good news was, they had found some mango trees on a narrow peninsula on the island. The bad news was, there was a HUGE platypus blocking the way onto the peninsula. He was easily twice the size of Agent P, had lost an eye at some point, and did NOT look pleased to see them.

“Are platypi aggressive to people?” Monty asked.

“N-not _usually,_ ” Carl said, “But they are aggressive towards each other, and he might smell Agent P on us…”

“Okay. You stay here and keep an eye on him. I’ll climb the tree and throw you the fruit.”

“I-I think maybe we should go back. We could send out an agent.”

Monty gave him an exasperated look, “We’re already here! We HAVE to bring something back.” He leapt over the platypus with an acrobatic flip, then easily climbed the tree. Carl was a bit jealous of the athleticism, honestly.

The platypus watched him climb, then turned its attention back to Carl and started to slowly approach. “Monty….”

Monty tossed him a mango, which he (barely) managed to catch. The platypus tensed to spring. “Run, Carl, run!”

Carl didn’t need to be told twice; he turned and bolted. He could have sworn he heard Monty laughing at him, which rubbed him the wrong way, but whatever. After he was sure he’d outdistanced the monotreme, he stopped to catch his breath, use his inhaler, and wait for Monty to show up.

Five minutes passed.

Ten.

Finally, against his better judgment, Carl slowly headed back down the path. He found Monty laying about ten feet from the base of the mango tree, curled up in a ball and clutching his leg. His complexion was a bit ashy, and he was shaking like a leaf.

“Monty? Monty, are you okay? Did you get stung?”

Monty nodded, and Carl couldn’t help but feel panic clawing at the back of his mind. “Oh no! Are you okay? Can you still walk? Oh, what if it gets infected!? I should have brought my first-aid kit! I usually never leave headquarters without it!” Back when he was bottle-feeding Agent P (well, paintbrush-feeding—platypups couldn’t manage bottles very well), Carl had done quite a bit of reading on platypuses. Their venom relaxed smooth muscle, broke down protein and blood, and caused cation currents that disrupted ion concentrations. In laymen’s terms? Excruciating pain that even morphine couldn’t touch, localized edema, and potentially muscle wasting.

“I think I can walk, but I’m going to need your help.”

“Okay, okay, just…” Carl’s voice was much higher than he intended it to be, “W-we just need to stay calm.”

“I am calm, Carl. C’mon, the faster we get back, the better,” Monty started trying to get up, but he was still shaking, “I learned something today.”

“O-oh?” Carl tried to help him to his feet, acting as a human crutch.

Monty forced a grin, “The enemy of man is the platypus.”

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

Vanessa looked over at where Perry was stretched out by the fire, sound asleep. His fur was fluffed up for another layer of warmth, giving him a very fuzzy appearance that she wasn’t used to seeing. “Hey, are platypuses soft?”

“Well,” Monogram said, sparing a glance at the sleeping agent, “They used to make coats out of them, so I would assume so.”

“Oh, yes, very soft,” Dad agreed, “It’s sleek, too, which can make getting a firm grip on a platypus nemesis _very_ challenging. …Don’t pet him without permission, though.”

“I’m not gonna creep on your nemesis, Dad.”

Her dad frowned, looking back into the woods, “Hey, shouldn’t the boys have gotten back by now?”

“It’s a deserted island, Doof,” Monogram said, rolling his eyes, “I’m sure there’s nothing dangerous out there.”

No sooner had he said that, though, then the boys re-appeared, with Monty using the intern as a human crutch. “Oh man,” Carl said in his whiny tone, “There’s some really dangerous stuff out there.”

Vanessa got up and ran over to help, “Monty! What happened? Are you okay? Here, sit down.”

He let her guide him into a sitting position, “I got stung by a REALLY big platypus. It was huge.”

“He was like four of Agent P!” Carl agreed.

“More like five,” Monty corrected.

“Here, let me see,” Vanessa said, rolling up the leg of his pants to get a better look. There was one really deep puncture wound in his calf, and the entire area around it was inflamed and swelling badly. You put pressure on swelling, right? She slipped out of her jacket and tore off one of the sleeves to use as a bandage. After wrapping it tightly around the wound, she used her hair-clip to pin the whole thing in place.

Monty was still pale and shaky, but he was also grinning at her like an idiot. “Thanks, Vanessa. It already feels a little better.” She smiled back; if Major Monogram hadn’t been sitting right there, she probably would have given him a peck on the forehead.

She started to answer, but a firm grip on her shoulder gently pried her back away from him. “Yes, yes, yes, he’s all bandaged. Good,” Dad said. He had slipped out of his lab coat, and was handing it to her to wear over her tank top. _Okay, fine._

“We did find some mango trees, though!” Carl offered.

“Right now it’s getting dark,” Monogram declared, “But we’ll have to look into that tomorrow morning. For now, everyone get some sleep. I’ll take the first watch.”


	14. Chapter 14

Heinz was a restless sleeper even at the best of times, and “stranded on an island with questionable food supplies and venomous native wildlife” was most definitely not the best of times. His arms were bothering him, he didn’t have his grind-guard with him so he kept grinding his teeth (not good for dental health), and on top of that was stress. He had a plan that MIGHT work to get them rescued, but then again it might not. And he was pretty sure that if it didn’t work, the others would all take it out on him. …It should be getting about time for his watch anyway, shouldn’t it? He squinted down at his watch, and was surprised to see that Perry should have come and awakened him two hours ago. What if something had happened? He got up (careful not to wake Vanessa), and headed outside to where Perry was keeping watch.

He was initially surprised at how bright the beach was when he stepped outside. The moon was new, but the sand was lit up as though if it were full. He looked up to see that the words “COME HOME PERRY” had been emblazoned across the sky in glowing letters that cast everything in an eerie green light. They had a flickering, ethereal quality to them, which probably explained how the image was made.

Perry himself was sitting on the sand, looking up at the message. It was strange to think that his nemesis had a whole other life that Heinz knew nothing about. He had a family who missed him and wanted him home. Really, the only family Heinz had who would actually miss him was Vanessa, and she was stuck here with him.

He hesitated for a long moment, then walked out and sat down next to Perry. The platypus glanced at him, then went back to looking at the sky. “You know, Perry the Platypus, I think I know how they did it.”

Perry tilted his head, asking an unspoken question.

“It’s all done with magnets.”

Perry rolled his eyes.

“No no no, I’m serious, here me out. They’re made like the, uh…” Heinz struggled to remember the English term. It started with an ‘A’. “Well, in Drusselstein we called them _nordlichter_. The little colored bands of light they have in the sky up in, like, Russia or Canada?”

Perry nodded to show he understood.

“Okay, good. Well, you see, the magnetic field of the earth and the atmosphere don’t quiet match up. So when the solar wind hits the magnetic field, it kind of follows it. And where the magnetic field hits the atmosphere, the solar wind ends up colliding with the gas in the upper layers. The gas ionizes, and turn into glowing plasma, and boom. Nordlichter. Well, if your family had the right setup, they could alter the Earth’s magnetic field in a localized area. Pull some solar wind right into the atmosphere, and boom. Glowing plasma letters. Very cool.”

Perry nodded again.

“You, uh, you must have a pretty inventive family.”

That just earned him a sad look.

“So, uh… anyway. Monty’s leg is pretty messed up, yeah? Do _all_ platypuses have venomous stings like that?”

Perry shook his head.

“Oh. ….Do you?”

The platypus raised one of his hind legs, revealing a wicked barb that jutted out from the ankle.

Oh, wow. “Have you really had that the entire time we’ve hated each other? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you try to use it.”

Perry gave another short nod.

“You are a good nemesis, Perry the Platypus. …Look, I’m having trouble sleeping anyway,” Heinz gave him an affectionate pat on the shoulder, “Why don’t you go ahead and get some sleep. I’ll keep watch.”

Perry nodded, took one last look at the message his family had written across the sky, then turned to head back into the shelter.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

The next morning, Perry couldn’t help but be amused that Grazie had managed to find a whole new way to annoy his rookie. Now, she kept sitting up on her hind legs to mimic his bipedal stance. If anything, her balance was better than his was, which only seemed to make him even angrier. On one hand, Perry totally understood the rookie’s frustration. On the other hand, it was hilarious.

Perry had spent the entire morning catching fish for the rest of the party (and insect larvae for himself), so at least there was plenty of food for everyone. Monogram had given Monty credit for the pile of fish, but Perry didn’t care much. So long as everyone was fed, they’d be in a much better mood.

Grazie reared up on her hind legs again, and the rookie swatted at her. She responded by pouncing on him playfully, and got a vicious bite to the face for her trouble. The kitten gave an astonished squall, and retreated back over to Doof.

“Ugh,” he said, scooping her up, “What is wrong with that kitten?! She’s just trying to play! …Wait, is that the one that Perry the Platypus brought over for training?”

“Yeah,” Carl said, “We told him to send K#3 back to the base when we got word that Monty had gone evil, though.”

Perry _had_ told him to stay out of it, but he had no way of telling Carl and Monogram that. It wasn't _his_ fault that-- Whatever. Screw it. They could blame him.

“Well, I do not like him. He’s mean to Grazie.”

Perry glanced over at his trainee, who had gone back to chewing on his fish. Apparently the rookie wasn’t exactly crushed by this revelation.

“Well, you see, turning an animal into an agent seems to slightly damage their ability to communicate with their own kind. They understand humans a lot better, but they can’t understand other animals as well. Kind of a tradeoff.”

Doof frowned, “So that is why he was treating her badly? I guess that’s a good reason. I feel bad for the little fella now.”

“Well,” Monogram said with a shrug, “It’s a small price to pay for a good agent.”

“Hey, Monty?” Vanessa said with a smile, “How are you holding up?” Ugh. Perry could _smell_ the pheromones.

“It looks a lot better, but I have _never ever_ been in so much pain,” Monty said. His answer seemed a bit too enthusiastic. “I’m surprised I can _talk,_ honestly.”

Carl rolled his eyes, “Oh, come on, it can’t hurt THAT bad.”

“Then you let that thing sting you and see how it feels!”

“Yeah, well, I’ve got an infected cat bite! Infected!”

“Carl, it's not infected, and it won't be unless you get sand or something in it!”

“Girls, girls,” Vanessa cut them off, “You’re both pretty. Hey, Perry?”

He perked up and looked at her to show he was listening.

“You didn’t happen to find a hot spring or anything, did you? I am in major need of a bath”

As a matter of fact, he had. Perry nodded and pointed in its general direction.

Monty immediately started to get up, “With that big platypus out there, you really shouldn’t go alone.”

“Nice try,” Monogram barked between mouthfuls of fish, “Sit down.”

Monty immediately sat, looking dejected. “Yes, sir.”

Doofenshmirtz, meanwhile, dug his phone out of his pocket, “Well, there is good news and bad news. The good news is, my phone still technically works. The bad news is, I can’t get a signal with it.”

Carl frowned, “How come it didn’t short out when it hit the water like everyone else’s did?”

“Well, you see,” Doof explained, “It wasn’t turned on at the time, so I was able to, y’know, dry it properly. See? Circuits protected. I always turn it off when I know Perry the Platypus is going to be paying me a visit. I mean, have you ever had your phone suddenly ring in the middle of a good thwarting? It totally kills the mood. Boom. Gone. Can spoil an entire evening. Or afternoon or whatever. Anyway, if I can get some of the parts of the helicopter that you guys smashed into the ocean, I might be able to amplify the signal and get help.”

“The helicopter is only about a quarter mile out,” Carl explained, ”but we don’t really know how deep it is.”

“Well,” Monogram said, wiping his face, “Looks like Agent P is going to have a busy day retrieving parts.”

Perry heaved a sigh. Yes. Yes he was.


	15. Chapter 15

“Okay, moment of truth!” Heinz crowed as he put the last finishing touches on his Phone-Amplifinator. He climbed back down it to where the others were waiting.

“This had better work, Doof,” Monogram grumbled, folding his arms.

“Or else what? You’re going to hold me personally accountable?” Heinz replied, rolling his eyes, “Yeah, _that’ll_ teach me. I’m shaking in my boots, Francis, really I am.”

“My son needs medical attention,” Monogram said, “And if you have wasted all day and all of our supplies building something useless, _you_ will need medical attention too.”

Okay, points for intimidation. Heinz had to hand it to him, Monogram did that pretty well. Then again, you’ve gotta be a pretty tough character if you’re going to get away with giving orders to, like, cape buffalos and stuff. Did O.W.C.A. have any cape buffalos? It seemed like an oversight if they didn’t. Those things were like rodeo bulls on steroids.

“Is that a _self destruct button?_ ” Monogram sounded appalled.

“What? Of course it’s a self-destruct button. What kind of idiot builds an Inator without some means of shutting it down if things go sideways?” He opened a side panel to make a few last minute tweaks, “Have you ever had your own creations turn on you? It’s not pleasant, Francis, let me tell you. Next thing you know, you’ve got your face stuck in a platypus trap in your own lab explaining to an angry butter spreading machine why you gave it sentience. It’s _not a fun way to spend a weekend._ ” He closed the panel, made sure it was secured, “So how about you leave the Inators to the expert here, yeah?”

“Alright,” Monogram said, “Agent P, you’re in charge of the Inator.”

“Ha ha. Very funny. That’s like hiring a dingo to babysit. You realize that, right?”

“Oh for crying out loud, will you just turn it on already?” Monogram said.

“Okay. No more stalling. Here goes nothing. Everyone got your fingers crossed? …Or wait, was that just for dishonesty?  You know, I was never really sure on whether that gesture—“

“HEINZ!”

Heinz sighed, then keyed in the number. Two rings, and then it picked up. “Heinz? Where the hell are you!?!” Charlene sounded angrier than he had ever heard her. And that was _including_ that one Thanksgiving they spent at her sister’s place. “I was supposed to pick up Vanessa five hours ago!”

“We, uh, we might be stuck on a deserted island full of angry platypuses…”

“What.”

“I don’t know how it happened either! But we need rescued!”

“Where is it!? I’ll call 911. But if this is a joke…”

“It’s… well, it’s in the ocean somewhere. And I promise it’s not a joke!”

“Oh, give me that,” Carl grumbled, snatching the phone from him (rude) and rattling off the approximate coordinates of the island.

“How did you figure that out?” Heinz said, honestly a little impressed.

“It’s called math,” came the snotty reply as the intern handed his phone back. Ugh. Y’know, suddenly Heinz didn’t have so much sympathy for him.

He turned to head back to the shelter where they had left the kids (with Perry the Platypus as a chaperone, of course), only to hear angry voices.

“If your freaking idiot dad remembered that he had his phone on him sooner I never would've gotten stung by that huge platypus. It still hurts!”

“He had to wait for it to _dry out._ And YOU'RE the one who got us stuck out here in the first place.”

“But it was HIS kitten that hit the switch on the machine!”

“Yeah, that _you_ built. At least my dad's crap generally doesn't end up getting anyone else hurt.”

“Geeze, I build ONE dangerous machine and suddenly everything's my fault?”

“Because in this case, it IS your fault!”

Heinz smiled a little bit. Actually, it sounded like they were having a good talk. He didn’t want to interrupt or intrude. He’d just let them know when the rescue helicopters arrived. And if they were so angry at each other by then that they had broken up, well, there wasn’t much to be done for it, now was there?

Today was shaping up to be a pretty good day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the shorter chapter, but it's like 3 am here and I'm sleepy and this seemed like a good stopping point, since there's probably going to be a slight time skip between this scene and the next one.


	16. Chapter 16

Raids like this were always high-risk.

It had been a week or so since they had escaped the island, and life had settled back into what was more or less its usual pattern. Fighting evil, taking naps on warm piles of laundry fresh from the dryer, training K#3, watching TV with Lawrence, hand-to-hand combat with Dr. Doofenshmirtz, playing “Platypult Baseball” with his boys. Life was good. As an added bonus, since the incident with Monty, there hadn’t been any more instances of “evil teens” popping up.

It definitely gave Perry more free time so he could focus on other things, like his current self-appointed mission. This was going to take all of his skill and finesse to pull off.

The funny thing with human beings? They were more likely to notice you moving out of the corner of their eyes than if you were moving right in front of them. Dr. D had explained why to Perry once; something to do with how the rods and cones in the human retina were arranged. What it meant, though, was that for operations like this, he had to be still as stone until he was SURE that everyone was not only looking the other way, but that he wasn’t in their peripheral vision, either.

Slowly, painfully slowly, he edged his way across the counter. Silent. Steady. Fast, but not too fast. They were all still focused on their food, and the alarm still hadn’t been raised, so he _carefully_ made his way over to the range. The heat was turned off, but the leftover fried clams had been covered. Damn.

Still, nobody had noticed him yet, so he ever so slowly wedged his bill under the cover and gently lifted it. Easy. Steady. All he had to do was gently roll it to the side, and—

“PERRY! NO! GET DOWN!”

Damn it. _Phineas, you traitor_. Perry did the only logical thing, and started wolfing down the clams as quickly as he could. A few seconds later, Lawrence was picking him up from behind, and the fun was over. “Just couldn’t resist, could you boy?”

Next thing he knew, he was shut in the living room behind a baby gate, and Lawrence went back to his meal. Still, it might not be a total loss. From this vantage point, Perry could easily see Ferb. Nothing to do but sit here, look sad, and stare directly into the kid’s soul. _See me, Ferb? I’m starving. I haven’t eaten in hours. Look at me. I’m skin and bones. You’re eating in front of me and I’m literally dying of starvation. And you’re eating clams. I **love** clams. Look how sad I am. Look. How could you do this to me? This is abuse. It’s abuse, Ferb. You should share. You should definitely share._

Ferb just gave him a small smile that said “nice try”, and went back to eating.

_Damn it._

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

Heinz, meanwhile, was hard at work on his plans for the next day’s Inator. Grazie was “helping”, which added another level of challenge. Seemed no matter where he unrolled the blueprints, she was compelled by an unresistable force to lay on them. Wait. Irresistible. Was it “Un-“ or “Ir-“ ? Irresistible sounded more right. But you didn’t say something was “Irstoppable”, you said it was “Unstoppable”. It seemed so wasteful to have TWO prefixes that meant the same thing, but weren’t interchangeable. Who had come up with that?

“Y’know, dad, it probably could have worked.”

Heinz looked over to where Vanessa was sprawled on the couch, fiddling with her phone. Oddly enough, her mother had only kept her for like four days before dropping her off again. He didn’t mind, of course, but it was still unusual. Irusual? Okay, in that case “un” definitely sounded better. And what about the word “Irregardless”? Didn’t it just mean the same thing as “regardless”. Honestly, English could do away with the entire “Ir” prefix and be much simpler for it.

“Monty’s weather thing, I mean.”

“Oh?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, we’d have to make some tweaks to make it kitten proof, but I bet you could totally take over the Tri-state area if you controlled the weather. Think about it.”

Heinz grinned. Vanessa was actually taking an interest in his work? This was fantastic! Well, what passed for interest, anyway. She still hadn’t looked up from her phone. While he wasn’t 100% on board with stealing the idea of another evil scientist (there was such a thing as professional courtesy), he supposed that Monty Monogram didn’t really count as an evil scientist, anyway.

“That is a great idea, sweety! Oh, and you can help me build it! It can be like a father/daughter thing!”

“Sure, whatever. Sounds fun.”

He beamed, “It’ll be great to have another pair of hands, too! I’m used to having to do everything all by myself with no help.”

“I got finished sorting out all your resistors, sir!” Norm said in a chirpy tone, holding up a box, “I even labelled all the compartments, and put a guide to the color bands right across the top!”

“What? Oh, good, good, whatever. Look, earlier today Perry the Platypus accidentally kicked over my socket wrench set and they rolled, like, all over the place. Pick them up for me, will you? I need to work on plans for the Inator I’m going to build with Vanessa tomorrow! Oh, and don’t let dinner burn like you did yesterday. We might be carbon-based but we can’t eat food that’s just, y’know, _carbon_.”

Norm stared at him silently for a long moment, then turned and walked off. “Fine! I’ll just do everything!”

Heinz crumpled up the blueprint he’d been working on, and tossed it onto the floor. Grazie scampered after it to bat it around. So cute. Still smiling, he got a fresh sheet and started to sketch. He had a Weatherinator to design.


	17. Chapter 17

Perry hit his lair at a dead sprint. He needed to get downtown, and he needed to get there _now_ before any real damage was done. The hovercar would be the best way, but K#3 happened to be sitting in the front seat of it pretending to drive. Ugh. He didn’t have time for this. Ignoring the rookie’s sheepish grin, Perry just roughly shoved him out of the vehicle and took off.

Apparently, Vanessa had enjoyed their little “island vacation”, as she was putting the finishing touches on what looked like a pretty close copy of the asinine weather control machine Monty had built. This time, at least, it was on the balcony of Doofenshmirtz Evil Incorporated rather than a flimsy platform in the middle of the city. He circled in for a closer look; the teen appeared to be putting printed labels below all of the buttons.

Perry keyed in the autopilot code for the hover car to land itself nearby, then bailed out, landing deftly on the balcony. Only to have the floor open up beneath him and close again, ensnaring his feet. The edges were padded so it didn’t hurt, but it DID effectively immobilize him.

“Oh, hey Perry,” Vanessa said, glancing over her shoulder at him, “No kitten this time?” She turned her back and entered in a few more keystrokes, and _something_ started charging up. Agent P couldn’t tell exactly what the device was going to do, but the entire thing was humming with energy. He could feel the vibrations through the floor. The padding on his ankle cuffs was spongy and compressed under pressure. With some careful squirming and a quick lunge, he was able to jerk his feet free. Well, an easy escape wasn’t shocking. She _was_ a Doofenshmirtz, after all. He tensed, then leapt into the air, hoping to take her down with a quick punch—

—Only to be tackled from behind and pinned to the ground by strong, metal arms. “Perry the Platypus,” Doof scolded, “No attacking my daughter! What is wrong with you?” The prosthetic limbs had all the strength of Norm’s hands, but slender fingers and a well-designed artificial neural network gave him a remarkable level of dexterity, too.

“Thanks Dad,” Vanessa said, flashing him a fleeting smile, “Hey, Norm! You get that antenna adjusted yet?”

“I almost had it and then it broke itself!” came the cheery reply.

“I’m so proud,” Doof said, grinning ear to ear, “My daughter is finally taking an interest in my work! She even made modifications to my blueprints!”

Perry squirmed, but it was useless. Finally he pointed with his bill at the device and chattered.

“You are not allowed to hurt my daughter, nemesis or not! If you really MUST foil her, you’re going to have to find a non-violent way to do it.”

Okay, this was getting to be ridiculous. Perry swung his tail, hitting Doof square in the nose with it. The scientist yelped in pain and dropped him, clutching his face. The agent dashed over, giving Vanessa a shove to knock her away from the machine—only to have her yelp in pain and completely crumple on the floor, as though if he’d landed a punch. _What? She went down from that?_ He ran over to make sure she was alright.

Dr. D, meanwhile, was already recovering from the blow, even if his eyes were still watering. He took one look at Vanessa laying in a heap, and Perry standing next to her, and started to stalk closer, looking _furious._ “Perry the Platypus! I thought I told you not to hurt my daughter!”

Rather than engage, Perry held his hands up in an appeasing gesture and slowly backed away. He _hadn’t_ hurt her! He didn’t even land a punch! Well, he had shoved her, but that shouldn’t have—

“You might be my nemesis, but there are some things that just cross the line!”

Still retreating, Perry gestured at the Weatherinator. He had just—

“Oh no. No. That is NO EXCUSE. You lay one more hand on Vanessa, you will be out of a nemesis!”

Perry, meanwhile, had backed away enough that he was between Vanessa and the ledge. She abruptly kicked, hitting him square with both feet and punting him backwards off of the balcony. The force of it knocked the wind out of him, but he still had the presence of mind to activate his mini-glider. It wasn’t good for long-distance travel, but it could be useful in a pinch. He used an air current to loop around, and once again dropped down from above. If he calculated it right, he would land _directly_ on the self-destruct button.

He had calculated it right, but instead of self-destructing, the machine responded to the button press by encasing him in ice. _What_? That was cheating. That was _completely uncalled for._

“I don’t understand,” Doof said, scratching his head, “Why did it not self-destruct?”

“Oh, I made a few changes,” Vanessa said, dusting herself off. She walked over, and looked off the end of the balcony. “Hey, Dad? Remember that bitch that stole my research topic last semester in biology? That’s her right there.”

“Oh, really?” he said with a scowl, “I remember that. You were so upset.”

Vanessa hit a button on the control panel, and the girl’s car was immediately pelted with baseball-sized hail.

“Don’t look at Vanessa like that, Perry the Platypus,” Dr. D said, “That girl clearly deserved it.”

“Hey, I wonder if I can hit my math teacher’s house from here,” Vanessa said, “Can you imagine if he walked out and his pool was frozen solid?”

Doofenshmirtz considered this, “Does he deserve it?”

“Yeah. He’s a total dip. He locks the door the instant the clock hits 1, so if you’re even a second late he won’t let you in. I got detention like four times because of him. Besides, no harm done, right?” She fired the ray.

 _God damn it Doof._ Perry squirmed and chattered in the ice, but couldn’t free himself.

“Perry the Platypus, if he deserves it, he deserves it. Vanessa is clearly in the right. …Isn’t she?” He paused, and for a brief, shining moment Perry thought he might be having a moment of clarity. See how out of character she is? Please see how out of character this is.

“Oh, look!” Vanessa said, “There’s Uncle Roger! Hi Uncle Roger!”

_God damn it._

“Ugh. Roger,” Doof said, stalking over to the control panel, “You know, he could really use a persistent rain cloud to follow him around.”

“Hey, dad, there’s the kid who’s always throwing your newspaper into the flower beds. And isn’t that the guy that shut the elevator on you yesterday?”

“Yes. Yes it is.”

With her dad now manning the controls, Vanessa walked back over to where Perry was encased in ice. “Hey, dad? I’ll be back in a bit, okay? Just gotta take care of something.” She gestured to Norm, who walked over and picked him up for her.

Perry chattered, but Doof was too focused on petty revenge to look back as they took him.


	18. Chapter 18

Heinz was having the time of his life, playing with the Weatherinator. He had been at it for a few days, and it just never got old. Vanessa had mostly lost interest (at the moment, she was sprawled on the couch and playing with her phone again), but that was alright. They had had some good bonding time while building it!

A helicopter was approaching the building, and for a moment Heinz considered batting it out of the air with a gust of wind or a lightning bolt, but he was in a good mood so he decided to hear them out. He somewhat regretted that decision when he saw that it was _Roger_ with the megaphone, though.

“HEINZ!”

“Ugh, Roger! What do _you_ want?”

“Look, we’ll give you the key to the city! Anything you want! Just stop the attacks!”

Key to the city? That sounded nice. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch! You win! You get to have the Tristate area! Just stop throwing hail and lightning at me!”

Okay, that _definitely_ sounded nice. Today it was all coming up Doofenshmirtz.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

Perry _still_ hadn’t come back.

Time was hard to judge in Perry’s lair, where there were no windows, but Three was certain it had at least been a couple of days. He had managed to eat through all of the snacks in the fridge, broken the computer, and pushed everything that was on a shelf off of the shelf it was on. He was starving, bored, and felt like he was full of pent-up energy. Even taking long naps on Perry’s keyboard was starting to get old.

Three got up, stretched, and trudged down the tunnel to Headquarters. Everything was… oddly quiet. There were a few other yellow-band rookies like himself playing in the obstacle course, but nobody seemed to be training them. A couple of black-band agents hurried past, but none of them looked at him even when he mewed for attention. The tension in the air was unbearable. What was going on?

He looked up, and briefly startled to see a pair of beady black eyes staring back down at him. A… dove? Maybe it was a pigeon. Either way, it was a rookie and it was perched on a rafter, staring at him intently. Underneath it hung Baily the Bat, O.W.C.A.’s finest recon “agent.” Recon “agents” weren’t as awesome as field agents like Perry. Their whole job was to get intelligence and bring it back, so the REAL agents could go out and fight evil. Most of them had recording devices hidden in their hats, but some of them knew how to read and write. Three didn’t see the big deal about that. After all, Perry could read AND write AND kick ass as a field agent too.

Recon agents were useless slackers, so far as Three was concerned. He hissed at them, and continued on his way.

Eventually, he came across some shaky little rat-dog of an agent who was outfitting a small pink-and-white jetpack. Three recognized the dog, even though he didn’t know its name. Perry seemed to have a grudging respect for the agent, so Three supposed he should too. Even if it did shake constantly and smelled like grilled cheese and wet dog.

He mewed and pawed at the jetpack, but the dog pushed him aside. Three was not deterred, however, and meowed even louder, darting in front of the dog whenever it tried to leave. It paused, frowning at him, and its eyes lingered on teal collar that Agent P had given him.

Agent Shaky-Rat-Dog-Thing heaved a sigh, and nodded. He activated the jetpack, grabbed Three, and took off.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

There was the tell-tale sound of a tiny jetpack incoming. Another one? With a smirk, Heinz sidestepped, allowing the agent a clear shot at the Not-Really-A-Self-Destruct-Button-Inator. Er, the name was a work in progress, but the concept was brilliant.

The.. what was that? A Pomeranian? Yorkie? Heinz had never been good at dog breeds. Anyway, the cute little purse dog agent hit the button, and boom. Frozen. Poor thing was shivering so violently it was making the entire block of ice quiver.  Honestly, it made him kind of feel bad.

“Another one?” Vanessa said, getting up and walking over.

“Yeah, they’ve gotta be running out of agents at this point.” He frowned a little. Something was off, though he couldn’t really put his finger on what. “Wait, where--?”

“Hey, isn’t that the lady that cut us off in traffic like a month ago?”

“Huh, where?”

“There," Vanessa pointed, "In the red sedan. She almost ran us off the road?”

“I suppose so, though now I can’t really remember if it was a red sedan or a maroon one.” In truth, Heinz couldn't remember being nearly run off the road by anyone. Well, recently. In America. Driving back home in Drusselstein was another story.

“Don’t worry about it, Dad,” Vanessa said, picking up the frozen agent, “I’ll take care of this while you figure it out.”

“Okay, sweetykins, thank you.”

He saw a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye, and turned to look, but it was nothing. Just Grazie following Vanessa downstairs. He didn’t remember buying her the teal collar, but it was cute. It looked good on her. Maybe Vanessa had got it for her.

Oh well. He looked back over the balcony, decided ‘why not?’, and dumped three feet of snow on the burgundy sedan. After all, they kind of deserved it just for driving under a balcony with a gigantic Weatherinator on it. People could be _so oblivious_ it was sad.


	19. Chapter 19

Three stayed close on Vanessa’s heels, taking extra care to walk even quieter than usual. Her level of Doofenshmirtz Evil Incorporated was filled with cages (and with agents), but aside from the furiously struggling Agent Shaky Rat Dog in her arms, none of them appeared to be making any attempt to escape.

He took cover under an ottoman, and watched as Vanessa carried the agent up to a strange, podium-like device in the middle of the room. The teen put on a pair of sunglasses, then took a handheld scanner-like device off of it and held it up to the dog’s face. Three shut his eyes, and there was a bright flash through his eyelids. When he opened his eyes again, Vanessa was putting the canine agent into a small carrier. She tossed his tiny fedora onto a large pile of them in the corner, then headed back upstairs. Shaky Rat Dog, meanwhile, laid down to take a nap. Because dogs are stupid and useless.

Once he was sure she was gone, Three scampered out of his hiding place to get a better handle on the situation. And to find Agent P. He darted into the next room—and nearly ran headlong into a giant metal leg. Norm was looking _right at him,_ and for five terrified heartbeats the rookie was sure he’d be captured too.

Only… Norm didn’t move. Or stand up from where he was slumped. Three lashed his tail back and forth, but the giant robotic human didn’t track it. The eyes didn’t move. Nothing moved. The panel on his chest was open and gaping, but there was nothing inside it but an empty wheel. Three bit his hand a few times, but that didn’t rouse him. So… probably not a threat.

Three was going to chew on him some more when a familiar chatter caught his attention. Perry was across the room, watching him. Well, with one eye, anyway. The other eye was apparently staring off into Platypus Land. Still, all Three had to do was free Perry of his restraints, and then they could save the day!

Only… Perry wasn’t in a cage. Three carefully approached, only to find that Perry had been leashed to one of the legs of a coffee table. Not, like, tied up with the leash. It was just clicked onto his collar. Platypuses weren’t as smart as cats, but surely he could have figured that out on his own, right? It took some fumbling with his mitten-paws, but Three managed to unclip the collar.

Perry just rolled onto his side with a lazy chatter. His eyes weren’t even focused. With a frustrated hiss, Three pushed him up to his feet, then pulled off his own fedora and put it on the platypus’s head. _Come on,_ he fumed, _snap out of it._

Agent P gave him a confused look and shook his head as though if trying to get a little bit of clarity, but it didn’t work. With another derpy chatter, he dropped back down to all fours and laid down.

Three batted his face (claws in), then took his hat back. Maybe it had to be a specific one? He spent a while digging through the pile of fedoras, and found what he was _pretty sure_ was the right one. …Holding it was cool. After all, even the fedora _itself_ was legend, and Agent P had never let him touch it before, and here he was holding it. If time wasn’t a factor, he’d totally try it on, but he had no way of knowing how much time was left before Vanessa returned.

When Three got back to Agent P, the platypus was doing a lot of head-shaking and pawing at his face. He let out another slurred chatter and tried to rise up on his hind legs. He took a few tottering steps, then fell over again. Three put his hat on, but it didn’t seem to help.

 _How am I supposed to fix this if you won’t help!?_ Three hissed again in foul temper, and launched another flurry of clawless paw-strikes at Perry’s face. After a minute or two of this, the platypus headbutted him, knocking him over.

Three growled and scampered out of reach, then watched as Perry walked determinedly directly into the wall. He shut his eyes for a moment, and seemed to be “smelling” around even though Three couldn’t hear him sniffing. Weren’t platypuses supposed to have some sort of fancy electric sense? Apparently, since Perry then shuffled along the wall, found an electrical socket with a lamp plugged into it, and let out a happy chatter.

Great. Just great. Three was apparently on his own because the great “Agent P” was functioning on the level of a bag of hammers. There was option B, which was head back to Headquarters like some kind of cowardly Recon Agent, but no way in hell was Three doing that.

Agent P frowned in concentration. Took off his hat. Made a big show of unplugging the lamp. Then put the hat back on. Then just… stared at Three. With the plug dangling from his mouth.

Okay. So. Perry had no plan and was going to be playing with electrical outlets while Three did all the work. Fantastic. No, really, that was great. Chewing on power cords was absolutely what this situation needed. Three hoped he bit right through it and shocked his stupid face.

Perry flopped back down on his belly, and started indiscriminately licking his forelegs and the floor between them. With a final disgusted hiss, the rookie turned, clambering over the motionless robot, and back into the main room. He’d have to solve this one all on his own. And that’s when he got it, the most brilliant idea ever.

He would cut the power to Vanessa’s stupid Inator, and maybe it’d lose its weird effect on the other agents. It was genius. Totally brilliant. Really top-notch, high-level agent stuff. Three was impressed with himself for coming up with it all on his own, since right now he was getting zero help. That kind of insight was probably why they had decided to pair him with the best agent; he was the smartest most self-sufficient rookie.

Time to save the day.


	20. Chapter 20

Slowly, very slowly, the world seemed to come into focus, and Perry realized he was chewing on his hat. Glad that nobody appeared to have seen that, he put it back on his head and stood up. Vertigo almost immediately pushed him back down onto all fours. Fine. He would be a quadruped again for a little while.

Thinking was hard. Very hard. It wasn't like having a headache (though his head did throb), it was more like trying to see through murky water or thick fog. Or trying to sense with his bill when Candace had every single electrical device known to man plugged in and turned on in her room. That was enough to turn the whole upstairs into a hazy mesh of tiny currents and signals and static that made his bill useless.

For a long moment, too long, Perry couldn't remember what he was supposed to be doing. He had his hat. That meant he was on a mission. Norm was defeated over by the doorway. That meant he was awesome. He was in a room with gothic decorations. That meant he was... where? He'd seen it before. Vanessa. Vanessa's level of D.E.I. Okay. If he was here and he had defeated Norm, that meant he was on a mission. Which meant... it meant there was an Inator upstairs.

He tried to stand up again, but it was still no good, so he headed into the next room on all fours. Lots of agents in lots of traps, but some of them seemed to be rousing and freeing themselves. K#3 had opened the side panel of some strange, pedestal-like inator in the middle of the room; inside there was an empty squirrel wheel, so apparently whatever it was was squirrel-powered. Because Doof is an idiot.

Something landed on his tail, and Perry glanced back to see Baily the Bat clinging to it. Agent B looked like she had no idea where she was. Okay. Not important. Focus on the mission. Part the fog. Focus. Laser-like focus. Because he was an agent.

Underneath that ottoman looked like it'd be a great place to curl up and sleep.

 _No._ Stop it.

Perry gave himself a shake, and nosed his way out the front door. He considered the elevator as well as he could, then opted to head up the stairs instead. It was because... um... because the elevator made noise. Exactly. Perry absolutely, 100% remembered how to work an elevator. He was climbing the stairs because stairs were quiet. Also, what was on his tail? Why was there a bat there? Was that part of the mission? That was probably part of the mission. His mission was to take this bat upstairs for, um... reasons.

Half-way up the flight of stairs, a moment of clarity struck him. Why was he going upstairs? That was a bad way to find water. Everyone knows that to get to a creek, you have to head downhill. If he went down hill and outside, he could find a nice, muddy creek with worms and frogs and--

A flurry of paw-strikes to the face from a grey striped kitten interrupted his train of thought. He stared at it for a long moment, trying to place it. The cat just hissed at him, then scampered back up the stairs. Okay. He couldn't remember what he'd been thinking about, so he followed it. Wait, was there something on his tail?

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

An hour. A full damn hour to go up two flights of stairs. By the time they reached the top, Agent P seemed like he was somewhat coming back, but goddamn if the process wasn't slow. When they reached upstairs, Doof was still playing with the weather machine, and Vanessa was listening to her headphones. It was loud enough that Three could hear the music. Apparently her taste was terrible.

Perry, meanwhile, had apparently lost his focus again, and was gazing off towards the kitchen with a vacant expression. He sniffed the air, and Three battered him with his paws again. Come on, pay attention!

This time, though, apparently Three hit a nerve or something—Perry let out a strange, involuntary chatter, and flipped his tail in the air. It launched the bat through the air, and directly into the back of Doofenshmirtz's head. Apparently recon agents were useful as projectile weapons. Either way, Doof immediately started to _freak out,_ running around and flailing his arms and yelling, trying to get the apparently terrifying three-ounce flying rodent off of him. Agent P, meanwhile, dashed over to the Inator. Vanessa hopped to her feet in the chaos, looking alarmed and trying to calm her dad down.

Three tensed, and leaped, clinging the to the back of her jeans, but Vanessa was too busy trying to pull the (very confused) bat off of the back of her dad's head to pay him any attention. He climbed up her back, digging his claws into the leather of her jacket.

“Dad! Dad hold still! It's just a bat!”

“GET IT OFF! GET IT OFF!”

Three spat a bit, trying to get her long hair out of his face, but feeling around with his nose he found it—the little chip on the back of her neck. He bit down on it, pulling it free. Unfortunately, he got a little bit of skin too, because the girl yelped in pain. _Sorry not sorry._ He leaped down, landing easily on his feet. Baily, meanwhile, disentangled herself from Heinz's hair, and took off flying.

There was an ominious rumble of thunder from directly overhead, and Three glanced over at the Weatherinator. Perry was sitting on it, looking up at the sky as an small, intense torrent of rain fell down directly on the inator. It started to jitter and spark, and appeared to short out. Perry had hopped down, and walked about halfway across the room, when it exploded behind him for no apparent reason.

“Ugh, why didn't I waterproof it!?” Doof said, looking sour. “Curse you, Perry the Platypus. Well, also curse that bat, and the kitty over there I guess, but curse you _in particular._ ”

Perry blinked up at him, sniffed the air again, then ambled into the kitchen.

 


	21. Chapter 21

Three was contentedly napping in the driver’s seat of the hovercar, parked out behind D.E.I., when he was awakened by a sudden, rude shove into the passenger’s seat.

Perry was back.

Three gave him an appraising look. Well, his eyes seemed clear and focused enough, but the rookie wasn’t entirely comfortable with him driving, considering that two hours ago he had knocked over Doof’s trash can to eat the leftover lobster in it. Not exactly a proud moment for O.W.C.A.’s top agent.

Perry snapped his fingers to get Three’s attention, then very slowly and deliberately inserted the key in the ignition and turned it. The hovercar grumbled to life. Then, making sure he was still watching, Perry hit a green button alongside the steering wheel, causing a touchscreen to pop up with some sort of navigation interface. Perry hit “AUTOPILOT”, then “SELECT DESTINATION”, then “NOWHERE IMPORTANT”. Seatbelts fastened them into place, and the hovercar took off on its own accord.

“Nowhere Important” ended up taking them directly to Perry’s lair. Three hopped out and started to trudge back to the rookie cages, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. Perry took off Three’s collar and fedora, and then pushed him down to all fours. With a frown, Three stood back up, only to be pushed back down on all fours again. _What?_ After walking upright, walking on four paws again seemed strange and alien.

Perry also dropped down to all fours, and went to leave the lair using an exit Three had never seen before. He paused to make sure his trainee was following, then led him up into the sunshine of a suburban backyard.

“Oh, wow!” an excited child’s voice rang out, “There you are Perry! Ferb, Perry’s back! Where’ve you been, boy?” A little redhead ran up, and proceeded to scoop the legendary Agent P up in a hug, as though if he were a common dog or something. And Agent P just… just _let_ him. What the hell? Not only that, Perry rolled over like a dog wanting a belly rub. It was demeaning even to _watch._ “Hey, it looks like he brought a friend with him, too!”

Another boy, this one with green hair, approached as well. He noticed Three, walked over, and reached out to _touch_ him. No permission, nothing. Just stuck his hand RIGHT into Three’s personal space out of nowhere. He came very, _very_ close to biting the idiot, but Agent P was right there and Three wasn’t looking for an asskicking. So, he swallowed his pride, and let the kid rub his ears. Fine. They could touch him when Agent P was watching.

“Aww, what a nice kitty,” the redhead said, getting to his feet and still holding Perry, “Do you think he’s hungry?”

The boy with green hair nodded silently, then _picked Three up._ It was the worst. It was the absolute worst. He was going to have to lick himself for five hours to get the human smell off of him, which was fifteen minutes longer than he’d been planning on licking himself. This was outrageous. It was disgusting. These kids could go straight to hell, so far as Three was concerned.

“I don’t think we have any kitty food,” the other boy was still talking, “but we do have some leftover chicken. You want some chicken, little guy?”

Wait, what? Chicken? Okay. Maybe they could take a detour before going straight to hell.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

Candace had her snacks, her bowl of popcorn, her soda, and dibs on the TV. They were showing a Grievance marathon all day today, and all day tomorrow. She was going to watch it alone today, so that she’d already know when the scares were coming tomorrow, and that way when she watched it tomorrow with Stacy she’d look calm and collected and cool. She’d tried to invite Vanessa, but Vanessa had other plans. Oh well.

Sitting on the couch, though, was the platypus and the boys new kitten. They’d had it almost a week, which honestly was surprisingly long for a pet that wasn’t a gross disgusting platypus. “No. Nah-uh. Not happening.” She pushed Perry off the couch. “You’re gonna have to go do something else today, meat brick. TV time is mine.”

Perry tried to curl up on the floor, but she threw one of the throw pillows at him, “Move it or lose it, flat tail. Go play with my stupid little brothers or something.”

The platypus got up and trudged out of the room.

“You can stay, kitty. You’re WAY cuter than that stinky platypus.”

She reached to pet the grey kitten, but it _growled_ at her, it’s fur bristling.

“….Kitty? Are you okay?”

It hissed at her, then scampered to the far end of the couch. Weird. So weird.

Still, she settled into enjoy/endure the movie, and before long she was totally absorbed. The tension in this one was running _so high_ she could feel her heartbeat in her ears. The heroine in it got closer and closer to the door, and she knew, KNEW that the creepy little girl was just on the other side, and—

The sound of an impact drill from outside just about made her jump out of her skin. This morning she had decided she was going to ignore the boys today, but sometimes Morning Candace made decisions that Afternoon Candace just couldn’t agree with. Whatever they were working on, they were SO BUSTED.


	22. Chapter 22

Perry was dozing in the backyard when Candace came stalking out the back door, K#3 at her heels.

“PHINEAS! What are you guys doing back here!?”

“Check it out! Me and Ferb made something new for Kyle!”

“Kyle?”

“Yeah, check it out! It’s the world’s biggest cat tree! ….Sure hope Perry won’t get jealous.”

Perry wasn’t jealous. He was too busy being amused at K#3 standing there with his jaw hanging open, looking up at the enormous amalgamation of wood and carpet remnants. Besides, the boys had made Perry some pretty amazing things over the years.

K#3 glanced over at him, and he nodded. A heartbeat later, the rookie was frantically climbing and running all over his new toy. Candace turned and stalked back into the house, and Perry laid his head back down on his forepaws. He dozed in and out, enjoying the warm sunshine. The gate opened and closed, and someone patted him on the head as they went past. It was a large hand, so probably Buford.

His nap was abruptly ended by a chirp from his communicator. Time to go to work. Perry got up with a yawn and a stretch. Where was his rookie? K#3 was running around on the cat tree, with all the kids watching him. Great. Okay, time to make a distraction for the little guy. Perry gurgled, and made a “hurk” sort of noise. The kids turned around, but fuzzball didn’t move.

Perry retched again, and this time his stomach actually rolled.

“Perry? Are you okay?” Phineas hurried over, followed by the others.

 _Come on fuzzy, move it. I don’t want to have to actually throw up._ Finally K#3 seemed to get the idea, hopped down, and dashed around the side of the house. Thank goodness. Perry stopped gagging, and sat back down. Phineas looked worried, and gave him a few more pats on the head. “Well, he seems to be okay.”

They turned to head back to the cat tree, and Perry quickly put on his hat and dashed down to the lair. When they turned back around, he’d be long gone.

When he entered the lair, the rookie was sitting in the front seat of the hover car. Perry scruffed him and moved him to the passenger seat before walking over to the big screen and sitting down. To his surprise, though, it was Carl on the screen, not Major Monogram.

“Oh! There K#3 is! I was worried when he didn’t return to Headquarters. Has he been with you this whole time?”

Perry nodded.

“That’s a bit ahead of schedule, though. He’s not supposed to go through cover training for another two weeks.”

Perry chattered his disagreement.

“Well, if you say so, Agent P. It’s just me here today. Major Monogram got called in for jury duty. Anyway, Dr. Doofenshmirtz is… okay, I can’t read this writing, but it’s something to do with Dr. D. Are you two on it?”

Perry gave him a small salute, and headed back over to the hover-car. He relocated the rookie back to the passenger seat, then took off for D.E.I.

* * *

* * *

* * *

Heinz smiled as he heard the trap trigger. He had figured, correctly, that Perry would be bringing along his little kitty trainee today, and he wasn’t disappointed. Right now, the two were tightly tied together and right where he wanted them. He had Grazie cradled in one arm like he’d seen a villain in a movie do, and was stroking her head in a diabolical sort of way. Perfect for his menacing aesthetic.

“Perry the Platypus, and… Perry the Platypus’s cat. How completely unexpected. And by unexpected I mean COMPLETELY EXPECTED!” The agent rolled his eyes. Ugh. Rude. Also, since he brought his cat, did that diminish Heinz’s ‘villain with a cat’ thing? “BEHOLD! My pumpf-“ he was muffled mid-word by Grazie standing up on her front paws and stuffing her ear into his face, “Grazie, no, stop it. My Pumpkinator! It shoots miniature pumpkins! I’m going to use it to cover every store in the tri-state area with pumpkin insides! That way, all the shops will have to close until they get it cleaned up, and I can conquer the tri-state area while everyone is inside ordering things they need from the internet!”

“We saved a few for pie, right? I love pie!” Norm asked. For like the fifteenth time that day.

“Yes, Norm, we saved some for pie. Sheesh, why are you so on that? You don’t even eat!”

“Having opinions about food makes me feel more human, sir!”

Heinz walked over and prepared to fire up his magnificent device.

“Sir? Why do the animals fight us?”

“Well.. because that’s what they’re supposed to do, I guess.”

“But from a self-preservation standpoint, it makes no sense!”

“Just don’t question it, Norm.” This line of questioning was giving him a headache. He set Grazie down and went to activate the Pumpkinator—only for Agent P’s foot to connect with the side of his face, knocking him away from it. Ow. He picked himself up, and swung a fist at the agent, only for Perry to make an agile retreat.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a little streak of grey fur make for the inator, but right now he was more focused on not getting his nose broken by Perry the Platypus. …Not that his nemesis ever tended to hit him in the nose. On the rare occasion a face blow did connect, it was usually just a bruised jaw. Swing, tackle, strike. The agent effortlessly evaded every attack; it was like he knew what Heinz was going to do before he did it.

On one hand it was immensely frustrating. It was like trying to fight air. On the other hand, Heinz had missed this. His brief reign of terror with the Weatherinator had been satisfying, sure, but there was nothing like going hand-to-hand with a skilled nemesis. It felt right. Norm had his squirrel back, Vanessa was back to normal (and back home with her mother again), there was the “bang” of an Inator exploding behind him, and he was getting to face his nemesis. Things were back on track.

 

And then Heinz actually landed a hit.


	23. Chapter 23

Three-no, Kyle. His name was _Kyle_ now. Kyle hadn’t seen why Agent P called such a fast retreat, but seconds after he had disabled the Inator, there was a strange pained squawk and a tell-tale chatter that it was time to get out of there. They hadn’t even stayed long enough to watch it explode! Now, in the stairwell, Perry stopped to catch his breath. _Here?_ Normally Kyle’s mentor didn’t slow down until they were safely in the car. But here they were, halfway between the seventh and eighth floor of D.E.I. …Agent P was holding a foreleg strangely, blinking a lot, and breathing in rapid, shallow gasps. Platypuses were weird. So weird.

“Perry the Platypus!” Doof’s voice echoed down the stairs, “You get back here and thwart me right now!”

The sound of the Inator exploding.

“Well, okay, but you were VERY unsporting! I let you hit me all the time! Just because I landed a hit doesn’t mean you can just take your ball and go home! YOU’RE UNSPORTING!”

Perry rolled his eyes, and kept walking, pausing about every two flights to sit and catch his breath again. Kyle didn’t know what kind of recon this was, but it was annoying.

Finally, after what seemed like _forever,_ they got back to the hovercar. He climbed into the front seat, and waited for the shove, but it never came. Did this mean he was going to get to drive this time? No. No it did not. He looked at Perry in excitement, only to see that Perry was giving him a look. _Fine._ He moved into the passenger seat.

Perry climbed in and reached for the ignition, but immediately pulled his right forepaw back with a wince. He clutched the arm for another long moment, beak gaping, then tried with his _left_ arm. That at least got the car started.

Ugh. This was taking too long. Kyle hit the buttons the way he’d seen Perry do before, and set the autopilot to take them back to the lair. There.

Once they were back home, Perry continued to act strangely. It took him four times longer to get from the lair to the backyard than it normally did. What the hell was the point of this training? Patience? Was he trying to teach Kyle patience? If he was, it was taking too long.

Once they were in the backyard, Perry dropped down into pet mode and started to _limp,_ favoring his right foreleg. What? Why was he doing that? Kyle was baffled. The kids were climbing all over his new Giant Cat Tree with odd gloves that had claws on them, so they weren’t paying any attention to the pets. It wasn’t until they were almost at the back door when he heard Phineas say, “Oh! There you are, Perry!”

Perry immediately stopped limping and sat down as the kids approached. With a bit of a wince, he moved his front leg into a more natural position, and endured the attention patiently. Soon enough, they lost interest and made their way back to their game. So…. fake a limp but don’t let the kids see that you’re limping? That seemed like a stupid tactic all around. Kyle didn’t see the point.

The back door, as usual, had been left open a crack for Kyle (and by extension, Perry) to come and go as he pleased, so Perry led the way inside, still at an infuriatingly slow pace. Lawrence was reading a book in the living room, but Agent P paid him no attention. Instead, he limped into the kitchen, walked up to Linda (who was just getting home), and made a pitiful sound.

“Perry? Oh Perry, what happened?” she kneeled down, gently taking his leg in a hand and frowning, “This is all swollen. What did you do? I’ll call Dr. Peterson.” She left the room, and a few minutes later was back with a small carrier. Agent P went into it without a fuss.

“Boys! I found Perry, but he looks like he ran into some trouble!”

Phineas came in the back door, looking worried “Really? He seemed like he was okay a few minutes ago.”

Candace sprinted in after him, nearly knocking the kid over, “Momomomomomom! Come on, you’ve gotta see this! It’s in the backyard! They built a 12-story-tall cat tree!”

“Candace, I don’t have time for this right now.”

Phineas, meanwhile, was reaching into the carrier and petting Perry’s head, “Don’t worry boy! I’m sure Dr. Peterson will patch you right up.”

Perry responded with a chatter. Phineas chattered back at him.

“Ugh, mom, Perry’s getting weird injuries all the time!” Candace said, her voice near a shout, “Can you at least LOOK out the window behind you!? It is RIGHT THERE!”

“Candace,” Linda said, “Every time I look, there’s nothing there. Now come on, we’re going to take Perry to the vet.”


	24. Chapter 24

“Four broken ribs and a dislocated shoulder,” Candace said, “For an animal that we spent ten bucks on, my parents have had to spend a LOT in vet bills.”

“He had broken ribs?” Stacy asked, “Did he fall off of something your brothers made?”

 “Nah, Perry’s too lazy to climb. Phineas even has to coax him up the stairs at night with shrimp. Our best guess is that maybe it was a hit and run? Either way they had to do surgery to fix him up.”

“Cone of shame?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty funny.”

“Look, I gotta go,” Stacy said, “Coltrane’s taking me out to a movie.”

“Yeah, okay, I’ll seeya later.” Candace hung up, then made her way downstairs. Kyle was busy eating his kitten chow. Perry, meanwhile, was having less luck. The edge of his Cone Of Shame kept hitting the edge of the bowl, scooching it out of reach of his mouth. He was very determinedly chasing it around the kitchen floor.

“Ugh, you’re so stupid.” She grabbed a spoon out of the drawer, “Perry, sit.”

He gave her an empty look.

“Siiit.”

More blank staring.

She rolled her eyes, and picked up his food dish, “I thought Phineas was supposed to be training you. _Sit._ ” This time, eyeing the food in her hand, he sat. Perry’s intelligence always seemed to jump about 40 IQ points when there was food involved.

She sat down across from him, and took a spoonful of food out of the dish, holding it out to him. “There you go, stupid. Food. See? It’s food.”

Perry greedily ate the—ugh, she didn’t know, it looked like frog in a blender—off of the spoon. Once he had finished, she dug out another spoonful for him. “I don’t get how you can fail so hard at life in general. Your _only job_ is to sit on the couch and smell bad, and you still manage to break four ribs?” She gave him an affectionate pat on the head, “Thank god you don’t have to handle anything important.”

He licked her hand. “No, stupid, the food is on the spoon. Not on me. The _spoon._ ” Perry licked her again. So dumb.

About five minutes later, she’d finished giving him his dinner. Candace dropped the food dish in the sink, then went to head into the living room. Time to catch the end of the _Grievance_ marathon.

* * *

* * *

* * *

In the two weeks following Agent P’s injury, he and Kyle didn’t get sent on any missions. Apparently another agent was covering things while he recovered. Instead, Kyle found himself the recipient of a completely different kind of training. Along with being the best agent in the entire world, Perry was an absolute _genius_ at getting extra food out of the Flynn-Fletchers. It was like receiving a master class in obtaining completely unnecessary snacks.

Tonight’s lesson was in deception. Agent P had taken his full bowl, and carefully dumped it into his bed, then covered the food with a blanket. Next, being sure to avoid Ferb (who had fed him tonight), he carried the empty bowl up to Lawrence, set it on his foot, and made a sad sound.

“Oh, dear,” Lawrence said, picking it up, “Did Ferb forget to feed you? I’ll have to have a word with him. Come along, then, let’s get you some dinner.” Kyle watched in disbelief as Lawrence opened up a fresh can of Frogs-N-Bits, giving Agent P a _second_ dinner. No way.

As soon as Lawrence had left the kitchen, then the second bowl of Frogs-N-Bits ended up in Perry’s bed. This time, he took the empty bowl to Linda and once again made a sad sound. Linda gave him a suspicious look, but took the bowl and headed to the kitchen regardless.

Three dinners? Perry was going to get three dinners. This was amazing. (Totally unfair, since Kyle only got one dinner, but amazing nonetheless). Linda opened the pantry, however, and frowned. “I bought fourteen cans of this three hours ago, and there are only _twelve_ cans in here. Can you explain that, Perry.”

Perry gave her his most vacant look.

“You’re going to get fat if you keep doing this. Who’d you get this time, Phineas?” She tossed the dish in the sink, and went to head back to what she had been working on. Perry, meanwhile, went to help himself to the double-dinner he had stashed in his bed. He offered to share, but it didn’t smell appetizing to Kyle.

After eating, they both went upstairs to head to bed. Perry picked Phineas’s bed, so Kyle settled in next to Ferb. Both kids were sound sleepers, so there wasn’t any danger of being kicked off of the bed.

* * *

* * *

* * *

It was about three in the morning when Perry heard the front door quietly open and close. Time to go round up the rookie before he panicked. He wished that there was some way he could have explained to the kitten what was happening tonight, but there was no common language and Kyle couldn’t read.

He found the fuzzball in Candace’s room, hunting spiders, and gestured for him to follow. The rookie nodded and walked after him, tail high in curiosity. The cleanup crew was already making their way upstairs, and the trainee looked alarmed, but Perry gestured for him to stay calm and not interfere.

Instead, they were heading down to the lair, and from there they were going to headquarters. Kyle’s fur was standing on end and his ears were pinned back from stress but he followed willingly enough. He didn’t balk until they got back to the trainee cages, and Perry gestured for him to get in his old cage. The kitten looked very stressed and bewildered. Perry gestured again, and this time he complied, allowed the door to be shut behind him.

He turned to go, but made the mistake of glancing over his shoulder. Kyle was giving him a look of utter betrayal. Perry couldn’t help but remember five years ago when Agent D had carried him in here by the scruff of his neck, tossed him back into his cage, shut the door behind her, then stalked off without a backwards glance. He’d spent the entire night convinced that he’d done something wrong and washed out entirely.

With a sigh, he went to bed down on the floor across from the cage. He’d stay here, at least for tonight. The Flynn-Fletchers had him on some pretty effective pain medicine for his ribs, so he could stand a night on the floor. Somewhere further down the row, a puppy was wailing in confusion and distress. About the only rookies who were more dramatic than dogs were foxes and parrots.

Kyle was pacing, mewling, and rubbing his face on the bars. Still, Perry would stay here, at least for the night. Carl could explain everything when he got here in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part of this chapter may be based on my personal experience with a pet fox managing to get himself three breakfasts for almost a week straight because he had memorized everyone's schedule.


	25. Chapter 25

The next morning, Carl was surprised to find Agent P apparently camping in front of the rookie cages. “Agent P, what are you doing here? You should be back home.”

The platypus chattered at him.

“No. You know the rules. Go on, shoo.” Carl didn’t actually understand platypus chatters, but you could get like 90% of it from context. Agent P gave him a mutinous look, but left without a fight. With a grin, Carl turned to the kitten in the cage, “So, Agent K, ready for your big day?”

The cute little fuzzball’s ears perked up.

“Sometimes placement can take a few days. Come on, I’ll explain on the way.” He sat down the cat-carrier, opened the cage, and quickly scooped the kitten into the carrier before it had a chance to react and bite him again.

“According to our scans, it seems the memory-wipe on the Flynn-Fletchers went off without a hitch, so there shouldn’t be any complications with your placement. Of course, before I take you up to the adoption center, there is a mandatory bath and grooming.”

There was a low growl from the carrier, and Carl immediately knew this was going to be a rough morning. Ever tried to give a cat a bath? Multiply that by “secret agent training”.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

The “Animal Rescue Center” sucked, baths sucked, being away from his family sucked, and this was absolute _bullshit._ Kyle paced back and forth, occasionally biting at the bars of the little display cage he was in. He didn’t care that they were technically not his cover. He _belonged_ there. He was supposed to be back _home,_ playing with the boys and getting doted on by Candace and helping Linda do the laundry and guilting Lawrence into giving him extra food. Plus, he and Perry made an AWESOME team. Dividing them up was stupid. SO stupid. It was infuriating. Kyle would rather have no family at all then get stuck with some bunch of strangers.

He was still raging when a teenage boy went to the counter.

“Oh wow, look at them all. ….I really just need something small and cute and, uh, ‘sturdy’. We’ve already got a small dog that’s kind of feisty, so I need something that can take care of itself.”

“Hmm… maybe try a cat,” Carl said, altering his voice to match his ‘clerk’ disguise, “Or a wolverine if you don’t have any kids.”

“Oh, I’ve got a little sister.” The boy walked over and, surprise surprise, ended up right at Kyle’s cage. Well, fuck him. If he so much as touched a whisker, he was going to have his hand broken in four places. Kyle huddled in the back of the cage, bared his fangs, and gave a savage mew to let this fool know he wasn’t to be trifled with. He even made his fur stand on end to at LEAST triple in size. That oughta scare him off.

“Aww. It’s okay, little guy,” the teen smiled at him, “What’re you hiding from?”

Kyle hissed.

The boy reached in, and Kyle tensed to bite, but to his surprise, the guy didn’t just immediately scoop him up. He just offered his hand, palm down and fingers relaxed. “Shh. It’s okay.”

Polite introduction or not, Kyle still hated him. Hated hated hated him. …Even if the teen’s smell immediately struck him as being very familiar, even if he couldn’t place it. He gave another savage mew, sure to strike terror into the heart of any teenager.

The teen just grinned, “I gotta send Candace a picture of this little guy. She’d love him.”

Candace? _Candace?_ Wait, that was right. That’s where he’d smelled this guy before. Sometimes Candace would come home smelling like him.

The teen waggled his fingers, and made a soft clicking noise with his tongue, “C’mon, little guy. You’re fine. I won’t hurt you.”

Kyle crept forward and sniffed at his fingers. Yes. He definitely smelled like Candace. Just so there wouldn’t be any miscommunications, he also licked the teen’s fingers. _Feel that sandpaper tongue? That’s designed for stripping meat from bone. I am a fearsome apex predator, and you will give me the respect I deserve._

After a long second, the teenager started to tentatively rub Kyle’s chin (instead of immediately reaching for his ears and over his head like every other asshole human seemed to). Good. The boy was signaling his submission to Kyle’s obvious superiority.

“There you go. Good fella. Will you let me pick you up?”

Kyle purred his permission, and after a few more moments of chin-rubbing, a gentle hand slipped under him and scooped him up, while the other hand properly supported his hind legs. Kyle allowed more stroking and chin rubs, and even a few ear-rubs to humor the boy. He continued purring and licking. This guy would take him directly back home to Candace, where he belonged. Perfect.

“Yeah, I think I’ll take this little guy home. Suzy will love him.”


	26. Chapter 26

_Apocalypse log, day three,_ Kyle thought, hunkered miserably in one of the kitchen cabinets. Suzy was searching the house for him, but hadn’t found this hiding place. Yet. That foul dog had originally been helping her track him to his hiding places, but two nights ago he had spent the night waiting for it to fall asleep then charging in and biting it in the face. That tactic had proved so successful that he’d been repeating it during the daylight hours, which had finally led to Mrs. Johnson locking the dog in an upstairs bedroom for its own protection. He had bitten and scratched Suzy a few times, too, but it didn’t seem to curb her enthusiasm any.

Speaking of Mrs. Johnson, she was busy washing dishes and chatting on the phone to her friend, unaware that he was hiding within feet of her. With any luck, she’d STAY unaware and he could go unmolested for a while. It was bad enough that right now he was stuck wearing a sweater and he had glitter-glue in the fur on his tail—he didn’t want to know what other horrors the brat could unleash.

“I don’t know, Linda, he just doesn’t seem to be coming around. We actually had to get the dog seven stitches yesterday. We’ve got a vet appointment to get him neutered and declawed, hopefully that will help tone down some of the aggression.”

What. _What?_ No. HELL no.

Kyle stood up on his hind legs, walked out of the cabinet, and tugged on Mrs. Johnson’s pant leg. She glanced down at him. He put his fedora on, and handed her the “So you just found out that your pet is a secret agent” type pamphlet.

Then all hell broke loose.

* * *

* * *

* * *

He had to hand it to O.W.C.A., their clean up team moved _fast._ Either that, or they’d been watching him. If they _had_ been watching him and hadn’t sent in anything to rescue him from the CLEARLY psychotic little girl, then they were assholes. It was inhumane.

Kyle ended up spending almost an hour sitting in a cat carrier at HQ, before Carl ushered him into Monogram’s office. Agent P was up at the desk as they entered.

“Carl, make a note!” Monogram said, “Agent P is to get no more trainees for a while until he shows better judgment! Agent, dismissed!”

Perry winced, but nodded. He hopped out of the chair and left the room, but didn’t give Kyle so much as a glance on his way out.

The Major turned his attention to Kyle. “Alright, Agent K. Are you proud of your behavior up there?”

Kyle shook his head. He wasn’t _proud_ of biting the kid or blowing his cover, but it had to be done. It was basic self preservation.

“Normally, there’s a set protocol for this sort of thing, but Carl’s argued pretty strenuously on your behalf. So, you’ve got a choice. We can give you one more chance, or we can put—“

Carl cleared his throat.

“—Or we can remove you from active duty,” Monogram corrected. “So. Do you want to give it another shot?”

Kyle nodded, trying to look ashamed even though he didn’t feel ashamed. It was their own fault for placing him with such a terrible family. Jeremy was the only decent one of the group.

“Alright, Agent. Don’t disappoint me this time. Intentionally blowing your cover, _really._ You were trained better than that. Or at least you SHOULD have been.”

“This _was_ Agent P’s first trainee, sir,” Carl said, scruffing Kyle and putting him back in the cat carrier.

“You’re always making excuses for the agents,” Monogram grumbled, “Dismissed.”

* * *

* * *

* * *

Carl was, once again, watching over the Animal Rescue Center in his problematic disguise. He had put Agent K in the display cage up by the counter so that he’d get more attention from potential cover families. Hopefully it would be a better match this time. He _really really_ hoped it’d be a better match this time. That last guy that had bought K seemed to know how to interact with cats, so he’d been hopeful, but…

The door jingled, and a guy walked in talking on a cellphone. Oversized sunglasses obscured most of his face, but still something niggled at the back of Carl’s brain. Did he know this guy? He couldn’t imagine where he would know him from, since he wasn’t a college kid and he didn’t work at O.W.C.A. A professor or a TA maybe? Oh well. He supposed it didn’t matter.

 The customer hung up and strode up to the counter, “Yeah, I need a cute little animal.”

“Um.. okay. What kind were you inter-“

“I don’t even care. Just something small and cute for my girlfriend’s bitchy daughter. That one will work.” He cocked a thumb at Agent K without even actually looking at him.

“Um… that-that cat’s not very good with kids. Maybe—“

“She’s a teenager. Look, lady, just sell me the damn cat. I don’t care if it bites.”

“A-alright,” Carl replied, cowed. He got the adoption form and a little cardboard carrier to send Agent K home in. A few previous incidents had made it clear that Major Monogram did not consider ‘but he was an asshole’ to be an appropriate reason to dismiss a potential cover family, so what else could he do?

Still, he had a _bad_ feeling about this.


	27. Chapter 27

Vanessa groaned internally when she saw the cardboard box with airholes sitting on her bed. “From Charles” had been scrawled on it in a lazy script, and it moved a little when she closed the bedroom door. Seriously? She was a little old to get really excited about the prospect of cleaning a guinea pig’s cage or whatever.

Also, the fact that the BOX was in her room meant that, at least for a second, CHARLES had been in her room, and absolutely fuck everything about that. That was not okay. Time to find out what dipshit had bought her. She opened the box, and was surprised to find a very familiar half-grown grey cat staring at her. Judging by the look on its face, the cat was as surprised as she was.

“Hi biter.”

The cat blinked at her, then meowed.

Instead of reaching in, she tilted the box so the bitey asshole cat could jump out of eat more easily. “So, what are you doing here? Get sent to spy on me?

The cat shook his head.

She let out a small laugh, “Am I accidentally your cover?

The cat nodded, laying his ears back.

“Okay, so. Cards on the table. I don’t like cats much. But, I get the impression that you don’t like people much, either. That sound about right?”

Another nod.

“I’ll make you a deal. Don’t bite me, and I won’t do anything to blow your cover. Fair?”

He nodded again.

“I don’t have a car, so I’ll have to ask mom to get some cat food for you tomorrow. I think we’ve got some canned tuna for your dinner later, though. ….So, do you come with a name, or do I get to pick one?”

The cat meowed at her.

“Yeah, well, meow to you too, Bitey.”

Vanessa flopped down on the bed, grabbed the book she had been reading, and settled in to knock out another chapter. A few minutes later, though, the cat was settling in on the pillow next to her head to stare at the book too.

“Can you read?”

He shook his head.

“I can’t believe that jerk bought me a kitten. Does he think I’m six? I mean, you’re cute and all, but you don’t make me like him any more than I did before. There is something _wrong_ with that guy, too. It’d be awesome if I could get mom to see it too, but no.”

She glanced over, and Bitey had become distracted with his own tail. Okay, fine. Secret agent probably isn’t the best person to vent to, anyway. “Anyway, I’m gonna be spending a few days at my dad’s. Probably a better idea if you stay here for now.”

* * *

* * *

* * *

“I’m serious, boys. No more snacks for Perry.”

Linda had Lawrence, Phineas, and Ferb sitting on the couch. Perry was perched in Phineas’s lap; he had recently had the Cone of Shame removed and seemed to be doing a good job of leaving the stitches alone.

“But Mom,” Phineas protested, “Perry loves treats! And I’ve _almost_ got him trained to sit up on command!”

Phineas had been working on that trick for four months now. From what Linda could tell, there had been no progress at all. “Phineas, the vet said that Perry is _very_ overweight. He’s almost eight pounds.”

Lawrence interjected, “To be fair dear, he is quite large for a platypus.”

She sighed, “Yes, yes he is. But the vet said he weighs too much for his frame, too.”

“Doesn’t muscle weigh more than fat per volume,” Ferb asked, taking Perry from Phineas’s lap, “After all, he is also _unusually_ muscular for an animal that doesn’t do much.”

“Yeah!” Phineas chimed in, “He’s like an Olympic athlete under all that fur!”

The only time Linda had ever seen Perry behave like an “Olympic athlete” was when he was trying to avoid a vet visit, but it was pretty clear that this little meeting was going nowhere. “He still begs at the table, when he shouldn’t. How about this for a new rule? Perry can ONLY have treats during a training session, and then only his waxworms. No people food. Okay?”

The boys looked dejected, but nodded their agreement. Perry, meanwhile, was staring at her like she had just ruined his _whole world._ It was almost like he understood that the conversation had doomed him to one dinner a day.

* * *

* * *

* * *

Back at D.E.I., Heinz was putting the final touches on an Inator. He wasn’t going to use it, of course. Not until Perry the Platypus was all healed up and off of leave. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t build things ahead of time. Norm was being overly helpful and getting in the way a lot, while Vanessa was sitting on the couch, playing with her cell phone. She hadn’t shown any interest in his evil schemes since the Weather-Inator, but that was alright.

This piece was particularly nice—a long range Rotten-Tomato-Throw-Inator. Right now, he was working on programing it so it only targeted Roger. Particularly his face.

“Father, aren’t you taking this a bit far?” Norm asked, “He hasn’t even done anything to annoy you today!”

“He annoys me by existing, Norm.”

“Can’t we just avoid him? I bought those tomatoes for making homemade spaghetti sauce!”

“No! No we can’t!” Heinz replied with a huff.

“Why not?”

“I’d explain it to you, but you’re probably not smart enough to understand, Norm. Just go with me on this one.”

“You’re right, father!” Norm said in his usual chipper tone, “I have no idea what it’s like to have a sibling who gets all of the love and attention even though she does nothing to deserve it, and I do everything I can to be useful and do all the chores and work really hard and get nothing but verbal abuse in return!”

That got a bit of a reaction from Vanessa, who suddenly sat up. She was paler than usual, and looked worried. “Hey, Vanessa? Is something wrong?”

“Yes, Vanessa,” Norm echoed, “Is something _wrong?_ ”

“I, um… I’ll be down in my room,” she said, getting up and making a hasty exit.


	28. Chapter 28

Yes, the Doofenshmirtz household was _definitely_ a step up from the Johnson household. Vanessa wasn’t around so he didn’t have to entertain her, Charlene was at work during the day (and usually out somewhere else in the evenings and occasionally overnight), an automatic feeder with kitten chow had been set up, and Kyle had the house entirely to himself. It had been two days of napping-in-the-sun bliss.

He realized he had been napping too deeply, though, when a he was grabbed by the scruff and stuffed into a cat carrier before he could properly wake up and react. Next thing he knew, they were leaving the penthouse and getting in a car. No. No, this was bad. He started to meow his most fierce meows to let his abductor know that he would not be trifled with.

“Hey, easy little guy. I’m just going to get you all cleaned up,” Charles said, “Charlene was talking about getting pics taken of you and Vanessa.”

Kyle paced and growled, but there wasn’t anything else he could do. Soon enough, the man had reached their destination, picked up the carrier, and went to head inside. As soon as they passed the threshold, though, a strange static charge seemed to run through Kyle’s fur. It made his spine and his whiskers tingle.

“Hello, little Agent,” Charles said, “Don’t worry. I’m not going to hurt you and your cover isn’t blown. Your hat quit transmitting the moment we crossed the threshold. If I open the carrier, do you promise not to attack me?”

Kyle considered this, then nodded. The door was opened, and he stepped out to find himself on a table. The room was half workshop, half insane panda shrine. Panda pictures, panda statues… there was even what looked like a panda-skin rug on the floor. Weird. So weird. There also lots of pictures of Dr. Doofenshmirtz with the eyes scribbled or cut out. A name placard on the desk identified his captor as “Miggs C. Boson”. Miggs? Not Charles? Maybe Charles was his middle name or a cover or something.

“I’m actually here to help you, though you might not realize you need it.”

Help him? That was ridiculous. Kyle would have explained all the reasons why, but all he could do was meow at him.

“Oh, that’s right. One moment.” Miggs dug a small collar out of the desk drawer, and offered it to him, “This will allow you to speak English, for a time. May I put it on you?”

Kyle nodded. He didn’t see the harm. As soon as it was on him, a speaker on the collar chattered to life. “Well then,” he said for the first time ever, “I could get used to this.”

Miggs was standing so his face was still in shadow, but his tone was friendly enough. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but here goes. You’re making a mistake.”

“How so?” The vibrations from the speaker felt weird around his neck, but being able to speak was worth it.

“Trusting the O.W.C.A. Believe it or not, that organization is NOT run by animal lovers. They think you’re expendable.”

“I’m not in this for the O.W.C.A.” Kyle replied “I’m in it for my friend.”

“Oh? Which friend is that?”

“Why should I tell you?” The fur on Kyle’s tail bristled.

Miggs, however, just gave a small shrug. “I suppose you shouldn’t. Do you even remember the procedure that made you into what you are?”

“Not really,” Kyle answered truthfully, “I assume they did something so I wouldn’t remember anything before the training.”

“At least they’ve started doing that kindness, then. Only about 1 in 5 subjects survive it. I was able to get a good deal of their records when Dr. D was busy playing with the weather.”

 _One in five?_ Kyle thought. He tried to multiply five by the number of active agents, but he wasn’t any better at math than he was at reading.

“They go through a lot of infant animals,” Miggs continued, “And a lot of adult agents. They actually _ate_ Agent T last November. Would you like to see the data yourself?”

They _ate_ an agent? This was news to Kyle. He dropped his gaze to his forepaws. Even if he was shown the data, he probably wouldn’t be able to make much of it.

“O.W.C.A. has its start in the Bat Bomb project,” Miggs explained, “No agents survived that by _design._ They were carefully trained to take packages to specific locations. They weren’t told that the packages would explode the instant they landed.”

“Why would they _do_ that?” Kyle asked.

Miggs ignored the question. “I’ve been trying to get the O.W.C.A. shut down through legal channels for some time but… with little success. Because it’s considered ‘experimental’, most animal cruelty laws don’t apply. Nobody seems to care that they euthanize the agents that don’t get placed with a host family after a set amount of time.”

“They said that if I didn’t settle down with my second host family they’d remove me from active duty.”

“And now you know what that actually means,” Miggs actually stepped out of the shadows… to reveal that he was wearing a mask anyway, so the shadows were a moot point. “You could be instrumental in stopping this, if you help me.”

“Why should I trust you?”

“Because you know I’m telling you the truth.”

“Just because you’re telling me the truth _now_ doesn’t mean that you will in the future.” Kyle liked to think that Perry would be proud of that bit of insight.

Miggs looked surprised, “You’re really okay with being their pawn, aren’t you?”

“I’m only okay with it because of my friend. I don’t want him to get hurt any more than he already has,” Kyle hesitated, “And if I team up with you, someone’s going to find out, and he’ll get in trouble for training a bad agent.”

Miggs nodded, seeming to accept this. “Fair enough. However, there is one thing that you _can_ do to help me that won’t reflect badly on him.”

“What’s that?”

“Stay out of my way.”

Kyle’s tail twitched at that. Something in the tone bothered him. “I’ll try, but I can’t make any promises.”

“Of course not,” Miggs said in an amiable tone, “I should be getting you back home, I suppose.”

He reached to remove the collar, but Kyle stepped back. “Can.. can I keep this? To talk to Vanessa?”

Miggs rested a hand on his chin, giving the little agent a thoughtful look, “Your superiors will wonder where it came from.”

“I’ll just say that Doof made it for me.”

Miggs’s nose twitched at the mention of that name, as though if he had to physically stymie a sneer. When he spoke again, though, his tone was back to being friendly, “Alright, they should accept that. In fact, I have a second one you’re welcome to borrow as well.” He pulled it out of the drawer. “It might be a bit big for you, but maybe Vanessa could adjust the strap on it.”

He set the second collar in Kyle’s carrier, then politely gestured for him to get in. Kyle entered without argument, and laid down. Something about the second collar caught his eye, and he pulled it closer for a better look.

There was a tuft of black and white fur stuck in the buckle.


	29. Chapter 29

Vanessa hung up the phone with a sigh, and trudged back upstairs to where her dad was “working”. Apparently O.W.C.A. had noticed that thing with the tomatoes, as Perry the Platypus was there, throwing kicks and punches. She could still see his stitches (the doctor or vet had used orange thread), but apparently they weren’t slowing him down any.

“Oh, hi Vanessa!” her dad said, immediately before being judo-thrown into a wall.

Perry tipped his hat at her politely.

“Hi Perry. Hey, dad? Mom called. Apparently she and Charles are going on another cruise, so I’m gonna be here the next week. Can you drive me back to the Penthouse so I can get my cat?”

He got up, dusting off his sleeves. Perry tensed to leap again, but Dad waved him off. The agent nodded and politely waited for them to finish.

“I’m a bit busy at the moment,” he said, gesturing to Perry, “But Norm could probably fly you over right now if you’d like!”

“Uhm, I’d rather go with you,” Vanessa said, eyeing Norm nervously. “You can just take me when you’re done here. ….Er, your Inator is smoking.”

“Yeaah…” Dad said, “I’m thinking explosion in what, forty seconds?” He glanced at Perry for confirmation, but the agent just shrugged.

“I’ll be waiting downstairs,” she said, being sure to shut the door behind her. Not a second too soon, as she immediately heard the combination boom of the inator going off, and SPLAT of something apparently wet and squishy hitting the door.

* * *

* * *

* * *

“Perry, what on earth happened to you?” Linda said in exasperation, as Perry scampered in with god knows what all over him. The little animal heard his name, and walked up to her amiably enough. Well, at least he wasn’t hurt again. “Hey, Perry. Bath? Do you want a _bath?_ ” He let out an excited sort of chatter, and pawed at her leg.

With a sigh, Linda walked over, grabbed the Platypus Shampoo out of the cupboard. When she turned around, he was already sitting in the sink waiting. Sometimes there were advantages to having a pet platypus instead of a dog or a cat. Baths were easy.

“This almost looks like salsa, Perry,” she said, scrubbing the goo out of his thick fur, “Did you get into Viv’s compost heap looking for worms?” He just chattered and bonked her arm with his bill. Linda couldn’t help but smile a little. “Perry Perry Perry.” It was honestly adorable how much some pets liked hearing their names.

On the bright side, the muck in his fur didn’t seem to have stained it any. Probably one of the advantages of having a relatively water-proof coat. She put a hand over his eyes to protect them, then used the sprayer attachment on the faucet to very thoroughly rinse him until the water came off of his coat with no suds.

“Okay, there you go.” She picked him up, toweled him off with an old dish cloth that had been saved for specifically that purpose, and set him back on the floor.

Perry, meanwhile, immediately hopped back up onto the chair, then onto the counter, and sat in the sink again.

“No, Perry, we’re all done.” She put him on the floor again, but a second later he was back in the sink. What on earth? They repeated this four more times.

Finally, Linda pushed the chair further away so that he would not have an easy route to the counter. This time, Perry climbed up onto the chair, leapt for the counter, and fell short, flopping onto the ground with an miserable squawk. He did this six more times, then started trying to _climb_ the cabinets to get back to the sink.

“He wants his treat, Mom,” Candace said, passing through the kitchen.

Damn it, she was right. They’d always used treats for positive reinforcement after baths to keep him cooperative.

“Sorry, Perry. You’re on a diet.”

He sat up on his hind legs and flailed his front legs awkwardly at her, then fell over.

“No.”

The platypus didn’t get up from where he had fallen, instead laying on his side on the floor and staring up at her with the most excruciatingly accusing look imaginable. She heaved a sigh, and then grabbed the tin of waxworms out of the pantry. “Fine, you get _one._ ”

* * *

* * *

* * *

“So where did you get the translator?” Vanessa asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” Bitey said as he made himself comfortable on her pillow at D.E.I. “Do me a favor, though, and don’t mention it to anyone. It’s not tech I’m actually supposed to have.”

“Yeah, alright,” she said. “Anyway, turns out mom is going on ANOTHER trip to Seattle with Charles, so I’m stuck at dad’s place again.”

“At least your dad is nice.”

“Yeah, totally embarrassing, though. At least mom’s okay with me dating.”

Bitey started licking his shoulder, “I’m sure he’s just trying to be a good dad.”

“Hey,” Vanessa said with a smirk, “Who’s side are you on?” She reached over to stroke him, but a look from him made her pull her hand back. “What’s with all the biting, anyway?”

“I don’t like, well, anyone. People are annoying and I don’t want their smell on my fur.”

“Okay, fair enough. So, can you understand Perry?”

“Not really, but most of the time I can get a lot of what he means from context.”

“Yeah?” she said, “In a weird way, I think my dad kind of understands him too.” She undid the clasp on her necklace, and dragged it across the comforter. Bitey couldn’t help himself, and pounced at it. This game went on for a little while, until he abruptly stopped and frowned at her. “….What?”

“Is your mom evil?” What the hell kind of question was that?

“What? No,” Vanessa replied, “Well, okay, maybe in a corporate shark kind of way, but not an ‘evil scientist’ deal.”

“Your friends?”

“No. Lacie was evil for a bit, but she had a chip on her.”

“Anyone else you can think of?”

Vanessa shook her head. “Well, maybe some of Dad’s friends in LOVEMUFFIN, but I hardly ever see any of them because he kind of hates them.”

“Well, then it’s obvious who put the chip on you.”

“Oh?”

“Charles.”

Vanessa rolled her eyes, “Charles is an annoying, overly-friendly dork, but I really doubt he’s an evil genius.”

“I saw his lair and everything. I swear!”

Alright, fine. She’d go with it. “So why don’t you just turn him in to Monogram?”

“Oh,” the little cat scoffed, “Because Monogram will _totally_ believe me.”

“Why wouldn’t he listen?”

“Because I’m already in a lot of trouble right now.” Seriously? He was the size of a cheeseburger. What could he have possibly done? Apparently Bitey noticed the skeptical look she was giving him. “I might have, uh, revealed myself to my first host family. I refuse to put up with a small child that’s going to squeeze me and dress me up in little cat dresses.”

Vanessa bit back a laugh, “You know, one time Perry showed up to fight my dad completely covered in sparkly stickers.”

Bitey gave her a thousand-yard stare. “He has the patience and tolerance for children that I will never, ever have.”

“Well, he’s my dad’s nemesis. He’s probably the most patient animal on the planet. Anyway, Monogram would be an idiot not to at least check into it.”

“Monogram IS an idiot!” Bitey protested, “The intern is ten times smarter than Monogram is, and the intern does all the work for FREE so how smart could HE possibly be?”

“Well, do you know anyone that they _would_ listen to?”

Bitey glanced back at his cat carrier, and then his face seemed to light up, “…Yes. Yes I do.”


	30. Chapter 30

When Kyle got to the Flynn-Fletcher’s backyard, he was a bit disappointed to find that Perry was the center of attention. That was going to make this much harder than it needed to be. At the moment, the platypus was dressed up in a mask and a super hero cape, and sitting in a little wagon on top of a smaller scale roller-coaster.

“Ready with the heroic music, Ferb?” Phineas asked. Ferb gave a thumbs up, and cued some genre-appropriate ambiance. Phineas grinned, and gave Perry a gentle push. The cart went around the track. “Way to go, Perry!”

Perry himself gave no indication of either enjoying the ride, or being frightened on it, but K suspected that he was at least enjoying the attention. Well, here goes nothing. Kyle trotted into the yard, meowing.

“Hey little guy, are you lost?” Phineas said, walking over. The kid stroked him and Kyle gave his fingertips an affectionate nibble, then arched his back for scritches. “You look awfully familiar.” The boy grabbed the tag on his collar, “Hey, Ferb, his tag’s got a number on it. Don’t worry, Bitey. We’ll give Vanessa a call and you’ll be back home in no time.”

“Vanessa?” Ferb said, perking up a bit as he followed Phineas into the house.

Kyle looked over at Perry, only to see his tail disappearing in to the tree-entrance into the lair. Alright, fair enough. He followed him, only to find Agent P waiting for him down in the lair with his arms crossed and a sour look on his face.

“I brought you something,” Kyle excitedly said through his collar as he handed Perry the spare. “I think you know what it does.”

Agent P took the collar, rotating it in his hands and looking it over carefully, but he didn’t immediately put it on.

“Go ahead, try it. It just automatically knows what I want to say.”

Agent P hesitated for a long moment, then set the collar down on his desk. He started to hit keys, and K immediately realized that he was entering the call signal for Monogram. No. _No._ If Monogram knew that this intel came from Kyle, he’d never believe it.

Thinking fast, Kyle grabbed the collar and lunged. He slipped it over Agent P’s bill, where it abruptly tightened. What? Kyle’s collar hadn’t done that. Perry slapped him away with his tail, and continued to struggle to remove the collar. Something was wrong. Something was _very_ wrong. The platypus grabbed his notepad and painfully scribbled something on it, but Kyle couldn’t read what.

Then, as quickly as it began, the odd fit passed. Perry straightened up and dusted himself off, seemingly no worse for the wear.

“A-are you okay, sir? That… that didn’t happen to me.”

“I’m fine,” Perry replied, “Whatever it was, it seems to be gone now. Thanks for the collar, mate. Should make life a lot easier.”

Kyle perked up, “Yeah, it’s been really nice just being able to TALK to people! So much less confusing.”

Perry tilted his head, “You’ve been talking to your host, then?”

“I have. Vanessa doesn’t think it’s weird, or anything. She pretty much treats me like she would any other person.”

“Must be nice,” Perry said, “I had my cover blown temporarily a while back, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen Phineas so angry, let alone angry with _me._ …I’m surprised headquarters is letting you stay there.”

“Well, I’m usually over at Charlene’s penthouse instead of Doof’s lair.”

“Be careful. Doof isn’t all bad, but he can be a petty git when he’s got a mind to be.”

Yeah, no kidding. “I learned that on Weatherinator Day.”

Agent P rolled his eyes, “I can’t believe they just handed him the Tristate Area, and he did _nothing_ with it.”

Something about that just licked Kyle’s fur the wrong direction. “Maybe it’s better that he didn’t try anything. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Come on, they’re probably looking for you topside.”

“But—“

“No buts, move along now.”

Perry herded him back upstairs, and they both went into pet mode.

“Oh, there you are, Perry,” Phineas said, “And he’s got, uh, Bitey with him.”

Vanessa kneeled down with a smile, “Here kitty kitty kitty. Where’s my sweet dumb kitty?”

 _Really, Vanessa? Really? Next hairball I get, I’m barfing it_ directly _into your favorite shoes._ Still Agent K scampered over to her with a cute mew. Gotta keep up the cover, after all.

Phineas just walked over and patted Perry on the head. “See, Perry was keeping an eye on him. Weren’tcha, boy?” Perry chattered at him in response.

Vanessa paused a beat, raising an eyebrow as she looked at Perry. “So, is Perry a common name for platypi?”

“I don’t know if it’s a common name,” Ferb answered, “But it’s certainly the best name.”

Her eyes lingered on him for another long moment, “Well, thanks for finding my cat.”

“Not a problem,” Ferb answered.

 _Wow,_ Kyle thought, _He’s talkative today._

Vanessa scooped him up and carried him back to the scooter, where her dad was waiting. “Got him.”

“Bad kitty for wandering off,” Doof said, having the nerve to shake a finger at him.

Kyle hissed at him.

“Oh no. Don’t you give me that look.”

“Thanks for running me over here to go get him.

“Oh, it was no problem, Vanessa!”

They were already back home by the time that Kyle realized he’d forgotten to tell Perry about “Charles.”


	31. Chapter 31

Stakeouts had always been Agent P’s least favorite assignments. He didn’t have the patience for this. The tree was a cold and uncomfortable place to sit, the binoculars were heavy to hold up for extended periods of time, and there was nothing to do. Agent K kept pinging his com watch, but he didn’t answer. The rookie was just going to have to take care of some things himself.

A slight sound caught his ear, and he looked up to spot Agent B clinging to a branch above, looking down at him. Damn it, how long had she been there? He gave the bat a sour look, and waved her away. Instead, Bailey flew down closer, giving his collar a curious look. _Damn it, away._ He shooed her again, and she winged off into the night.

It was around five in the morning when some life finally stirred in Monogram’s sizeable house. About bloody time. Monty’s Jeep pulled out of the garage and headed down the road; no doubt headed to the gym for an early morning workout. Perfect.

Agent P activated his hang-glider and followed him. He only had one shot to get this right.

* * *

* * *

* * *

Recon Specialist Pidwidgeon landed on the ledge of D.E.I.’s balcony, preened his feathers, and pretended to have no interest at all in what was going on inside. Why Agent K couldn’t do this beat, he didn’t know. After all, the cat was already here. But no, Bailey was insistent that Pidwidgeon keep an eye on things here. Apparently, she had found some _real_ villainy afoot, so he had babysitting duty.

Today’s Inator looked like a doozy, too. It was big. The report from the wire-watchers had indicated that there had been an internet order for forty-seven of the heating elements from space heaters, with overnight delivery. They weren’t visible, so he guessed that they had been integrated into the Inator somehow. Had Doof gone old-school and made some sort of heat ray? Pidwidgeon doubted that half of those buttons on the control panel were even hooked up to anything—Doof had a tendency to add extras just to make his Inators look “fancy”. Because seven hundred useless buttons was apparently just the fanciest thing imaginable.

Pidwidgeon strutted casually along the railing so he could get a look at it from the other side. As a general rule, Recon Specialists like himself didn’t wear hats while on duty. It really defeated the purpose of being a pigeon that looked like a thousand other pigeons if you wore a damn stupid hat that set you apart. Any idiot could learn to fight like a field agent. You had to be SMART to be a recon specialist.

Speaking of field agents, Agent K was approaching with a sour look on his face. That fuzzball always looked like he had a bad smell under his nose. Heh, maybe he could smell himself? Not that Recon Agent P could say much; most birds didn’t have a very good sense of smell.

“Go on! Shoo!” Agent K’s collar said with an electrical shatter, “Shove off, Pigwiggle or whatever your name is!”

A talking collar? That was new. And interesting. Had Doof made him that? Recon Specialist P gave no indication of having heard or understood the collar. Instead, he just lifted a wing and started to straighten his primaries. _Sorry, no agents. Just us birds here. Just birding it up. Got any french fries?_

“If you’re just a bird,” K said, “Then maybe I’m just a cat.” He hunkered down into a predatory pose and started to stalk closer on all fours, fur bristling and eyes blazing. _Ugh, what a cheeseburger._

Pidwidgeon was tempted, _sorely_ tempted, to see if he could trick the stupid field agent into pouncing at him and falling off the balcony. That would be hilarious. Ill-advised, but hilarious. Cats land on their feet even after twenty stories, right? Still, he went with his better nature and just took off in a flurry of down feathers, allowing Agent Stupid Cheeseburger to think that he had scared him off.

* * *

* * *

* * *

“CURSE YOU, PERRY THE PLATYPUS!”

Well, that was her cue. Vanessa got up and headed upstairs. Apparently Dad’s plan to melt all the ice-cream in the truck that played that repetitive music had failed. Which.. honestly was a good thing. She didn’t wanna think too much what his Ice-Cream-Melt-Inator would have done to the DRIVER of the truck it was pointed at.

The lab was a wreck, with scattered Inator parts all over the floor and some brand-new scorch marks on the ceiling. Norm was whistling tunelessly to himself and sweeping up the mess, and Dad was sulking. Bitey ran over and rubbed against her legs, purring, and she kneeled down so he could hop up onto her shoulder.

“Hey, Dad? Is it okay if I take the scooter out? Me and Lacie are heading to the mall.”

He looked at her askance, “You’re not sneaking off to be with Monty, are you?”

“No. I’m going to be with Lacie.”

“No boys there?”

“Well, we’re going to the mall, not a nunnery, so yeah there might be some guys in the general vicinity, but I’m going to be hanging out with _Lacie,_ not them.” Vanessa said, trying very hard not to get irritated. Raising your voice at Dad was a good way to turn a “maybe” into a “no”.

He folded his arms, giving her a considering look. One of his sleeves was on fire.

“Dad, your sleeve is on fire.” He patted it out absentmindedly. “And besides, this would be a _really good way_ for me to show how responsible I am.”

“Hmm… okay. You can use the scooter this afternoon. BUT, I do not want to see a single new scratch on it, and you have to be home by ten.”

“Okay, thanks!” Vanessa said, eager to go before—

“You know, sir,” Norm said, dusting some ash off of one of the bookcases, “Technically Vanessa could get involved with age-inappropriate romantic shenanigans just as easily at seven in the evening as she can at eleven at night.”

_God damn it Norm._

“Good point. Vanessa, your curfew is six thirty instead!”

“Norm,” Vanessa said, “This. Sentence. Is. _False_.”

“Daaad!” Norm whined, his smile rotating to be a frown.

“Vanessa, stop paradoxing Norm. Now go have fun with your friend. Shoo.”

She pulled Bitey off of her shoulder, tucked him into her purse, and headed out.


	32. Chapter 32

The mall was far too crowded a place to strike, so Agent P had to bide his time, wait, and watch. At least this time, it was made more challenging by the fact that Candace was ALSO spending the day at the mall, so he had to keep tabs on her location as well. It made things a lot more challenging than just sitting in a tree waiting, but it was a lot more stimulating, too. THIS was how recon should work.

Vanessa and K ended up leaving the mall sooner than Perry would have liked. It would have made things a lot easier if it had been twilight or dark when they finally stepped back outside, but if any agent was up for a challenge, it was Agent P. He followed in his hang-glider, being sure to keep far back and using trees as screening on the odd chance that Kyle would look up. He never did. Really, Perry would have preferred the jetpack (the harness for the hang glider was putting painful pressure on his healing ribs), but it was far too noisy for this sort of stealth work.

Eventually, Vanessa stopped at an intersection where there was no other traffic. Perfect. He pulled a flashbang out of his hat, and soared closer. Carl had made it for him to use on another op years ago, but he hadn’t needed it and it had sat in his lair, collecting dust. It landed perfectly in Vanessa’s lap (striking K, though that had been unintentional), and went off before either she or the cat could respond.

Perry didn’t know how long the flashbang would have her and K out of commission, so he had to move fast. He dropped down, releasing the glider and using the momentum to crash into the blinded and deafened teen, knocking her from the scooter. To his great surprise, she actually rolled with the impact, and used the momentum to throw him. He had a bit of a rough landing. By the time he righted himself, Vanessa had too, and was trying to bolt despite not being able to see where she was going.

Easy enough fix. Agent P threw his hat at her feet to trip her up, then leapt up onto her back, digging in his tarsal spurs. _That_ took her down. Perry cuffed the writhing teenager, sent out the signal for his hover car, then scanned his surroundings. Agent K was shaking his ears and pawing at his face, trying to shake off the effects of the flashbang, but his back was turned. To buy a little more time, Perry struck him from behind with a tail-slam, knocking the kitten hard against the bottom of the overturned moped. K slumped, unconscious. It was a shame, but it was necessary. Hopefully he wouldn’t be too badly concussed.

The hovercar landed nearby, and Perry loaded the girl into the back seat. They’d be long gone by the time the other agent came to.

* * *

* * *

* * *

Agent K had no idea what time it was. He just knew that it was dark, he felt dizzier than he ever had in his entire life, and his ears were still ringing. They’d been ringing for hours, maybe for days. He didn’t know. Thinking hurt, so he had quit trying to. He was just going to sit here on the side of the moped and wait until the world stopped rolling.

There was the sound of something loud landing nearby, and hurried footsteps, but he decided that he didn’t care about that enough to open his eyes.

“Well!” Norm said, his voice at approximately six hundred seventy billion point three decibels, “There’s the kitten, at least!”

A hand scooped under Kyle and picked him up. Hit bit it, naturally, but his teeth only hit metal. No good. It was holding him gently, at least, so it wasn’t Norm.

“But then where is Vanessa?” Doof said, also apparently using a megaphone for no reason.

Kyle let out a miserable mewl, which his collar translated to “Shut up too loud.” He held his paws over his ears.

“Wait, you can talk?” Doof said. He paused a beat, and his next words almost sounded hurt, “Can _all_ agents talk?”

“No,” K mumbled, “Just me.”

“Where is Vanessa, Bitey?”

“My name is _Kyle,_ ” he said. He opened his eyes, but the world was still bucking and rolling, so he closed them again, “And I don’t know where she is. We got attacked.”

“Don’t worry, Father!” Norm said in his usual upbeat way, “My databanks indicate that in the past decade, the police department has become 43% more efficient at recovering bodies from the river!”

“Not helping, Norm!” Doof said with growing alarm.

“Who took her?” Norm asked, “I worry about my big sister because it makes me seem more human and relatable! Also, I would like to try out my weaponry! Using it for vengeance is justifiable!”

“I don’t remember,” Kyle said, squinting at him miserably.

“That is okay!” Norm said, patting him a little too hard, “I don’t mind generalizing! Do you at least remember the gender?”

Even with his head feeling full of angry bees, Agent K was pretty sure he should stop this before it got rolling. “I-I don’t know. But I don’t think that Dr. D would like you rampaging like that. it’s not really—”

“I might be, just this once,” Doof said, cutting him off.

“Oh boy! Let me go upgrade my weaponry, and then I’ll head out!”

“Bring Vanessa back safe and sound, Norm!” Dr. D ordered, then dropped Kyle into the pocket of his lab coat.

The sudden motion combined with the vertigo was too much, and Kyle immediately lost his Meow Mix. Doof heaved a huge sigh, waited for him to finish retching, then moved him to the other pocket. At least he wouldn’t have to ride in it.

 


	33. Chapter 33

After they got back to D.E.I., Kyle got to enjoy an interrogation that lasted approximately seventeen years. No, he didn’t see who hit them. Yes, he was sure. No, not even a single detail. No, he didn’t know which way they went. Or how tall or how old or any of it. Doof finally put Kyle down and left him alone, and he stumbled over to the couch.

Grazie was already laying up on it, and she greeted him with a happy purr. Whatever. She was warm. Kyle just climbed up and laid down next to the stupid other cat. She responded with louder purring (unnecessarily loud, to be honest) and started to groom his forehead and between his ears. Okay, fine, they probably need cleaned. Kyle was very flexible, but even he couldn’t quite lick the top of his own head.

He was almost asleep when she started chewing at the back of his collar. “Stop it, you’re gonna break it!” He hissed and took a swipe at her. She hissed right back and slapped him in the nose in retaliation. The blow normally wouldn’t have been a hard one, but in his current condition it sent the whole room spinning again. Grazie was lucky his Meow Mix was all in the pocket of Dr. D’s lab coat, or she’d be wearing it.

Because she was a stupid jerk, Grazie went right back to licking/chewing at the back of the collar. Normally Kyle would have bitten her for her trouble, but he didn’t want to get his nose slapped again. (He wasn’t AFRAID of a nose strike, just he’d recover and be back in top form faster without one. Naturally.) A few moments later, she pulled something free and started playing with it.

 _Knowing my luck,_ he thought, _that’s probably the circuit that makes the collar talk._

It took entirely too much effort to make his eyes focus on the glinting bit of metal between Grazie’s front paws, but he managed it. It… looked almost like a robotic spider. He hooked it with a forepaw and pulled it over to examine it better. It looked almost exactly like the evil chip that he had pulled off of Vanessa. It didn’t appear to be active, but still. Had that been built into his collar? And if it was on his talking collar, was it on _all_ the talking collars?

Oh no. _Oh no._

* * *

* * *

* * *

O.W.C.A. headquarters were in absolute chaos. They had sent every agent they could to try and stop Norm’s little rampage. Well, _almost_ every agent. Agent P and Agent K for whatever reason were not answering their com watches. _Why is it,_ Francis thought, _that trainees seem to learn every single bad habit their mentor has?_ To be fair, they weren’t the only two. Agent B had also dropped off the radar again, but that was routine for her.

He was down in the communications room on his own, while Carl was upstairs monitoring the situation. He was actually about to hit the “call” button again when one of the video monitors sprang to life with an incoming message. …it wasn’t coming from the Flynn-Fletcher household, but the call code was Agent P’s.

The agent wasn’t in his normal lair. It appeared to be a cave of some sort, and was lit with an eerie red light.

“Agent P? Where the hell are you, and why haven’t you been answering your com? We have a situation here and you’re the best agent for the job!”

“We need to talk, sir,” came the reply. Francis was stunned, but only for a moment.

“Where did you get that collar? And why do you have a New Zealand accent?”

Agent P looked shocked, then offended, “It’s Australian!”

“Well,” Monogram huffed, “It’s the most Kiwi Australian accent I’ve ever heard.”

Perry gave him a sour look, then turned his camera a bit. Monty was caged behind him. For the second time in one minute, Francis was stunned. The poor kid looked shaky and weak, almost like when that wild platypus had stung him.

“Agent P, what did you _do?_ ”

“Things are going to be changing in O.W.C.A. For the better, if you ask me. Now, I’ve got some demands, and I’ve also got Monty, so you’d best listen to them.”

O.W.C.A. policy was to never, ever bargain with hostage-takers, but whoever had written that rule had obviously never had their kid taken hostage. “What do you want?”

“For starters? You’ll be transferring control of this sector to me. Carl included.”

“What!? I can’t do that. Even if I wanted to, I don’t have the authority! Why do you even want it?”

The platypus made a small churring sort of sound. The collar didn’t translate it, so Monogram assumed it was a laugh. “Maybe I’m a bit tired of getting’ kicked around, and being dragged from my family every bloody time Dr. Doofenshmirtz decides to buy something on the internet. I can’t fake it anymore.”

Monty, meanwhile, had started to make some progress on working an arm free. Francis had to keep the rogue agent focused on _him._ “But that’s your job, Agent P!” he pleaded, “You can’t just stop doing your job! Right now I’ve got a robot destroying down town! The Tristate Area NEEDS you!” And honestly, Francis thought that Agent P actually _enjoyed_ his battles with Doof, but he didn’t know how well saying so would go over.

“Here’s how it’s gonna work,” Agent P said, “You have, oh, twelve hours to decide whether we’re going to do this the easy way, or the hard way. And you’re not going to tell anyone, not even the intern, or else I’ll know, and it’ll go hard for Monty here.”

Francis scoffed, “How would you even know?”

“Because I’m the best spy in the agency, remember? You can’t even scratch your nose without me knowing it,” Agent P gloated. He turned his head, just in time to see Monty work one of his arms free. “Look, mate, I’ll have to call you back in a bit. You’ve got some decisions to make.”

“Don’t hurt him!”

But the screen went dead.

About thirty seconds later, Carl came staggering back in. “Sir? Norm’s started throwing cars off of the Danville Bridge and into the ocean. So far there haven’t been any casualties, but the agents aren’t making much headway. ….Sir?”

Francis hesitated for a long moment.

“Sir, if we don’t get Norm stopped, someone is going to get _hurt,_ ” Carl said, pushing his glasses back up his nose.

He hated to do this, but… “Have Agent B deliver a package.”

“Uhm… we’re not actually in contact with Bailey at the moment, sir. We’ll have to think of a different—“

“Her rookie, then. The pigeon.”

“But, sir!”

“Is stopping Norm a priority or isn’t it?” Francis snapped.

Predictably, Carl immediately backed down. “Yes, sir,” he sighed, “Yes it is. I’ll.. I’ll give Pidwidgeon his orders.”

 


	34. Chapter 34

Norm returned to the lair, wobbling in mid-air like he was having trouble orienting himself. He landed with a loud crash. Smoke and sparks were emitting from his chassis, and he smelled almost like burnt chicken wings. “Father, I closed all the roads out of town! It was fun!”

“Did you find Vanessa!?” Heinz asked.

There was a long moment of silence. “Was that what I was supposed to be doing?”

“Oh, for- YES THAT IS WHAT YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE DOING!”

"How many random strangers is equivalent to one Vanessa? I am at 47!"

“There is no equivalency, Norm!” Heinz shouted at the stupid bucket of bolts, “You need to find VANESSA.”

“But sir! At this rate, I will have to start leveling the city! . . . Do I have permission to level the city!?”

“Yes! Yes you do!” Meanwhile, Bitey was pawing at his leg and chattering something through his collar. It sounded broken. “Now is not the time for you, kitten,” he said, nudging the little cat away with his foot.

“Excellent!” Norm chirped, “However, one of my gyros is damaged! It will need to be repaired before I can continue my search-and-rampage mission!”

Heinz paused, taking in the smoke and sparks. “What happened?”

“I was attacked by O.W.C.A. again! They are interfering in my search!”

“ _One_ agent did that?” Even Perry the Platypus typically did not actually _damage_ Norm on the rare occasion that they fought.

“Yes, sir! I do not know where he went!” Norm pulled a single feather out from inside his chassis. “Also, I might be turning into a bird!”

“What agent did you fight, Norm?”

“It was a pigeon in a fedora!”

“I think that might explain the feathers, then.” At this point, Heinz was kind of dreading opening the access panel.

“I did not know that birdliness was a communicable disease!”

“That’s, uh, that’s not what I meant.” Nudging Bitey away _again,_ Heinz opened the access panel and pulled out the charred corpse of a pigeon. At first he thought maybe it had accidentally caused a short-circuit with some of Norm’s innards, but there was also what looked to be the remains of an incendiary device as well. O.W.C.A. had kamikaze birds? That… that bothered Heinz. That bothered him a _lot._ No part of that was okay.

Fortunately, it looked like a gyroscope had taken the brunt of the damage. It wouldn’t take him long to repair it so that Norm could get back to looking for his baby girl. Wrinkling his nose a bit, he pulled out the burned corpse of the poor agent, and got to work.

* * *

* * *

* * *

Normally when Kyle travelled from point A to point B around the city, he used O.W.C.A.’s network of pneumonic tunnels, but trying that in his current condition was probably a bad idea. He could black out, and then who knows where he might end up. Instead, he was going to have to steal some gear.

O.W.C.A. was out in full force, so it didn’t take him long to find a pink-and-white hovercar that had been stashed in an alley. Fortunately, the control panel was much the same as Perry’s. Unfortunately, Kyle keyed in “Nowhere Important” without thinking, and was transported to some OTHER agent’s lair. It was pink and fluffy and SUPER tacky. Ugh. He made his way back to the surface, and was pleased to find that apparently he was just across the street from the Flynn-Fletcher household, though, so getting into Perry’s lair was easy enough.

No sign of Perry here, though. Most of his gear was gone, and the big screen had been disconnected. The desk was emptied out. The gadgets were gone. Staring around at the stripped lair, Kyle could never remember having felt so utterly alone before.

A small manila envelope hit the floor in front of him, making him leap back with a startled hiss. He looked up to find Bailey the Bat clinging to the ceiling overhead, and looking down at him with her shiny black eyes. Okay. Maybe he wasn’t as alone in here as he thought.

Agent K opened the envelope to find pictures of Agent P. A LOT of pictures of Agent P. One of him lurking in a tree, a closeup of his collar, a shot of him attacking Monty. Another of him removing Vanessa from the scene of the scooter attack. A few shots of a new lair inside a cave.

And a map, with what he assumed to be the new lair’s location marked on it.

He stole Agent Pinky’s hovercar again, this time trying to fly it manually. It turns out that “while heavily concussed” is not the best way to learn a new skill, though, and the entire flight left him feeling nauseated and dizzy. When he rammed the little car into a tree outside of the lair, he was fortunately unharmed, but the vehicle itself was totaled. _Sorry Agent Shaky Rat Dog._

He dropped down to all fours to keep his profile smaller, and crept into the mountain lair. Sure enough, Vanessa and Monty were still prisoners. Perry, fortunately, had his back to the entrance. So all Kyle would need to do was creep up on him, pounce from behind, get the collar off, and—

“They don’t kid about kitty feet, do they?” Agent P said, glancing over his shoulder, “Didn’t hear you at all. Next time you might want to take off the tag on your collar, though. The reflections gave you away.” He gestured at the cave wall where, sure enough, there was a little flickering reflection from Kyle’s name tag.

Agent P sat down on the chair he brought from his old lair, seemingly unconcerned. “Monogram’s taking his sweet time. Keep sharp. He might have gotten the bright idea to call for help from other divisions. Is Dr. D still on the warpath?”

Kyle tried to answer, but his collar heavily obscured his words with static.

“Ugh. Just nod, kid.”

Agent K nodded, and sat down on the floor. A weird tension hung in the air, and quite frankly he had no idea what to do. He’d been spotted, so a sneak attack was out. They both knew he wasn’t a match for Agent P in hand-to-hand combat.

“Well, that’s going to plan, then. Once Monogram quits beating around the bush and gives me the sector, I’m going to send the girl there back to Dr. D in a few pieces, and tell him it was Monogram’s doing. I won’t have to worry about Monogram for long after that.”

Agent K sprang to his feet, even though the abrupt motion made his head spin, and planted himself between Perry and Vanessa’s cage. He arched his back, bristling, trying to look bigger and braver than he felt.

Agent P tilted his head, looking amused, “So I’ll have to go through you first, then?”

Kyle hissed at him, and the next thing he knew he was being rolled off his feet, buffeted by strikes and blows. He tried to fight back, but the platypus was so quick it was uncanny. This was nothing like all the times they sparred in training. Every blow was vicious and hard and well-aimed and it _hurt._ A tail slap to the side of the head made his vision darken at the edges, and the next thing he knew, he was pinned on his back with a tarsal spur against the soft fur of his belly. Considering what one sting did to a human as big as Monty, it didn’t take a genius to realize what it would do to a cat as small as himself.

“Any last words?”

Kyle answered him with the fiercest hiss he could muster, and braced himself for the sting.

Agent P, however suddenly lurched to the side and fell over, struggling and clawing at his collar. It responded by tightening again, making removal impossible. Kyle had a feeling this little fit wouldn’t last for long, so he ran for his life back outside. It.. it wasn’t the bravest response, but he was no good to Vanessa dead, right?

He sat down at the base of a tree, panting to catch his breath. There was the sound of leathery wings and sonar squeaks incoming; Kyle didn’t have to look up to know that Bailey had just landed in the tree over his head. Okay. Charging in hadn’t worked. He needed backup. He needed someone smarter than he was. He needed someone who could go toe-to-toe with Perry and actually hold their own for more than five seconds.

Agent K looked up at the bat clinging to the branch over his head.

He needed to send a message to Doofenshmirtz.


	35. Chapter 35

Laserinator in one hand, wrench in the other, deployable platypus trap in the pocket of his lab coat, and Norm at his back. It was time to finally _win_ one for a change.

Heinz didn’t know _why_ Perry had taken his daughter, but it was obvious from the nice bat agent’s pictures that he had. That was NOT how things were done. It was dirty pool. Never in a million years would Heinz ever intentionally target Perry the Platypus’s host family, with the understanding that never, ever would Perry even consider harming Vanessa or Charlene. And here Perry had broken that fragile understanding. He had trusted him implicitly, and Vanessa had gotten kidnapped because of it. Heinz didn’t think he could ever forgive himself for that.

They got to the entrance of the lair; the same cave that Vanessa’s little friend (Corduroy? He’d forgotten her name again) had used. Given that Perry the Platypus had apparently lost his marbles, Heinz _could not_ afford to go down in this fight. Fortunately, he brought the robot equivalent of a “meat shield”. Norm’s gyros were still a bit off-balance, but hopefully he could hold himself together well enough to be Heinz’s personal tank.

With a slight nod of his head, he sent Norm barreling in, then quickly and quietly ducked behind the row of stalagmites that Vanessa had used for cover the last time they were in here, quickly and quietly setting up the portable platypus trap behind them. Perry would never expect to be trapped in his _own_ lair, which would hopefully make it easier to catch him unawares. Trap set, he made his silent way back to the entrance of the lair for a more “open” entry.

Norm had been knocked off-balance, and was flailing his arms wildly trying to recover it; Agent P was tensed to spring and take him down. Reacting quickly, Heinz fired several shots with the laserinator, forcing the agent to abort his attack. He was firing with his off hand, which made most of the shots go wide of his target, but the air suddenly smelled like burning fur, so Heinz was sure he’d hit him (or at least managed to graze him) at least once.

He broke off the volley; the laserinator could only shoot so many times in a row before it started to overheat, and the last thing he wanted was to have it explode in his hand. Norm, meanwhile, had regained his footing, and barreled at Perry the Platypus in another lopsided attack. He missed, instead crashing into Perry’s desk, scattering writing utensils, paper, and other similar office supplies across the floor. The agent leapt up deftly, landing on Norm’s shoulder. With a quick tug, he ripped out some wires in Norm’s neck, and the android slumped motionless to the floor. If Heinz had to guess, he’d just severed the motor control processor from the actual motors that allowed Norm to move. An easy enough fix, but not one he had time to make right now.

Heinz fired a few more shots, forcing another temporary retreat and reminding Perry that he had the laserinator. He’d made some alterations to the laserinator before they left the lair; fins to add weight and make it incredibly unwieldy. His arms were long enough that the new “features” didn’t cause him much issue, but it would make it very difficult for Perry to try and use it against him. Still, if he knew his nemesis, getting rid of the ranged weapon would be his top priority, which is why Heinz was holding it in his off-hand. While Perry was focused on “disarming” him, he could strike with his dominant hand.

Perry did not disappoint. The agent dropped down to all fours to make a zig-zagging dash, both reducing his profile and moving much faster than Heinz was aware he could. Heinz was disarmed faster than he would like, and his strike at Perry’s side with his good hand was timed too late; instead, he ended up slamming the wrench into his other wrist. _Ow._

His arms might be prosthetic, but they still had an artificial nerve network capable of feeling pain. Too bad he couldn’t turn that off without, yknow, also disconnecting his ability to move them.

Perry attacked with a flurry of strikes, driving him back with trying to dodge or block all of them. After a particularly vicious barrage, Heinz managed to get a knee up and hit the platypus right in the gut, knocking him away. Agent P, as always, rolled on landing, and tensed to spring again.

That’s when Heinz noticed them; Perry the Platypus had his tarsal spurs out. No doubt he was prepared to use them.

_Perfect._

As Perry eyed him and circled, looking for another good opening, Heinz rolled up his sleeves in a classic, “kid gloves are coming off” sort of way. Exposing the bare “skin” of his forearms.

Perry attacked again. The first two strikes were aimed at his face, so Heinz blocked them as best he could with the wrench. As Perry tried to land a third strike, Heinz saw his opening and grabbed his nemesis by the collar. He was rewarded with the sound of a pained squall as the bone (keratin?) of a venomous spur cracked against the hardened titanium that laid under the artificial skin of his arm. The next heartbeat, he was swinging the wrench against the stitches on Perry’s side with all his strength behind it.

The collar tore under the force of the hit, and the platypus hit the ground with a strangled squeak. He pressed the attack; no telling how long he would retain this advantage. He got in three more strikes with the wrench, each punctuated with a satisfying _crack_ , but Perry was no longer fighting back, just retreating. The bloodied agent disengaged and scrambled over the row of stalagmites—and Heinz heard the satisfying “clang” of the trap going off. The cage raised up on spidery legs, lifting the agent up where he could be easily seen.

His nemesis was breathing in shallow gasps; no longer looking at him with rage and defiance, but a strange, pained look of resignation instead. It sent a little pang through him, but Heinz knew from experience that traps never held Perry long. He would need to end this quickly. He knelt to pick up the laserinator, and a yellow notepad that had been knocked to the floor by Norm’s charge caught his eye.

Written in block letters, in childlike handwriting that was shaky but also unmistakably Perry’s, were the words “HELP ME.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate writing fight scenes so, so much. I've never been any good at them.


	36. Chapter 36

Perry squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the final shot, but… it didn’t come. _What?_

“Oh, Perry the Platypus, not you too.” Doof’s voice was filled with grief. Hesitantly, Perry opened his eyes again, to find Doof staring at the chip that was embedded in the collar he’d pulled from Perry’s neck. “These stupid evil chips are going to ruin everything! If you are going to go evil, you’re going to do it the right way and become my minion, not.. not kidnap my daughter! Where is Vanessa?”

Perry pointed deeper in the cave with his bill, but even that small motion made his head swim and his vision darken at the edges. Now that the adrenaline from the fight was wearing off, all of his injuries from the fight began to announce themselves. His ribs had been re-broken, that much he was sure of. Probably the interclavicle bone in his chest, too. His left hind leg hurt badly enough that he couldn’t bring himself to look at it. Knowing it was probably mangled was enough; he didn’t need the specifics on how badly.

Agent P heard Dr. D’s voice, and the voices of the teens, from further back in the cave, but making out the specifics of what they were saying was beyond him. Had he killed Kyle? He knew that he had _tried_ to, but couldn’t remember whether he succeeded. The darkness pressed in at the edges of his vision again. This time he relented and let it take him.

* * *

* * *

* * *

_Where is that damn bird?_

Pidwidgeon hadn’t returned to O.W.C.A. when he was supposed to, and Bailey was starting to lose her patience. She had gotten a few excellent shots of Doofenshmirtz taking Monty and Vanessa to the emergency room, and she needed to turn them into Monogram, and her stupid rookie was going to make her late. He was under EXPLICIT orders to report back to her every six hours, and here he was late. Very late. Uncomfortably late.

 _He better be dead,_ Bailey fumed, Or _I’m going to **kill** him for worrying me like this._

She flew back down to the trainee cages to check. She’d trained a handful of pigeons over the years, and they had a very strong homing instinct. It could be incredibly difficult to get them to relocate, even just from the trainee cages up to the recon loft two floors up. It was especially funny whenever the brass decided to transfer a pigeon from one sector to another. No matter how smart the bird was otherwise, they always ended up going “home”.

Except Pidwidgeon, apparently. He wasn’t down in the trainee cages, either.

Maybe she should check the loft again, just in case he had arrived while she was down here.

* * *

* * *

* * *

When Perry came to, it was in bits and pieces. He had a scattering of blurry memories (robotic hands pulling him from the trap, the smell of anesthetic, bits and pieces of a car ride), and the vague sense that many hours had passed, but the specifics were beyond him. He started to get up, only to discover that his hind leg had a huge, bulky, clunky cast on it. His hat seemed to be fitting him strangely; pawing at it with a foreleg revealed that his head was bandaged. Breathing hurt, but apparently this time the broken ribs had not required surgery. There were no new stitches.

Mercifully, there was no Cone of Shame this time, either. But… why? Why wasn’t there a Cone of Shame? Wouldn’t Linda have put it on him to keep him from chewing on the cast? He eased himself onto all fours, and scanned the surroundings. He… wasn’t at home. It was a small, sparse bedroom. A storage room, maybe? It was _very_ familiar, although he couldn’t quite place it. There was a desk, a stack of cardboard boxes, a cot, a small TV, gallon jugs of water, a shelf with rows and rows of cans of almond brittle…

….and a solid, four-foot-high baby gate blocking the door. Well, this was just embarrassing. He couldn’t reach the latch with his bill to open it, and he couldn’t leap or climb it with his hind leg immobilized in a cast. He tried pushing against it with his head, but that just made his skull throb, so he stopped. He scratched at the gate and chattered a few times, but nobody came. The lights in the room on the other side of the gate appeared to be off, so maybe nobody was home.

Perry heaved a huge sigh, then immediately regretted it—broken ribs and sighs don’t mix well. Looking around again, he noticed that there were several fluffy pillows and blankets scattered around the floor. He’d actually been laying on one earlier, though he hadn’t realized it at the time. There was also a plate (not a food dish, an actual plate) sitting nearby with food on it. Suddenly ravenous, Perry went to investigate. After all, he couldn’t remember the last time he ate.

The food turned out to be cheese, crackers, and some sort of sliced up sausage. Bratwurst, maybe? Cheese was a rare treat (though sometimes he could get a bit of it from Lawrence), and the crackers were nice and crunchy. The bratwurst smelled good, but ended up being too heavily spiced for him.

Leaving the spicy meat on the plate, he limped back over to the soft, fluffy pillows to lay down. Not in a lazy sense, of course. He needed to work on an escape plan.


	37. Chapter 37

When Heinz got home, he was a bit worried to see that Perry the Platypus was apparently still unconscious. Well, that was until he saw that the plate of food had been eaten. Mostly eaten. Perry had left the best part untouched, for some reason? Maybe he was saving it for later. Who knew?

He felt a little bit bad about the “baby-gate” trap, but he needed to talk to Perry about what happened. And he’d learned that when Perry got injured, he tended to not show up for a while. Seth the Squirrel wasn’t much of a substitute. He sat on the couch, playing with Grazie and waiting. Finally, after what felt like hours, there was movement in the startle space and Perry’s unmistakable chatter.

Heinz walked over, opening the gate so his nemesis could step out, “Ah, Perry the Platypus! You are awake. Sorry about the, uh, the broken bones. But you DID kidnap my daughter, so… Oh, I actually made a Bone-Fix-Inator, if you’d like to give it a try!”

Perry waved him off.

“Okay, okay, suit yourself. Vanessa and Monty are going to be fine, by the way. Perry the Platypus, where did you get that collar? Not the one you are wearing; you always have that. I mean the one that had the evil chip in it.” Heinz held up the collar he was talking about. The chip was still attached.

The platypus hesitated for a long moment then reached under his hat and pulled out a picture of Vanessa’s pet cat.

“Bitey gave it to you? Well, I suppose that makes sense, since he had a talking collar too. Do you know where he got it?”

Perry shook his head.

“…Heh, you know? If you put a little fedora on him, Bitey would ALMOST look like that trainee you had for a while. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that all cats look the same, but there is definitely a resemblance between those two. Maybe they’re cousins?”

Perry just smiled vaguely at that for some reason, then reached to take the photo back. He also seemed to want the evil collar, too, so Heinz handed it over without a fuss.

“Oh, uh, the vet said you’d be in the cast for a few weeks. Come on, I’ll drop you off at home. I just need the address.”

Perry scowled at him.

“Oh, come on,” Heinz said, “Work with me. If I don’t have your address, I can’t take you home. So where am I supposed to take you?”

Perry produced a notepad out of his hat, and wrote the letters “OWCA HQ” on it.

* * *

* * *

* * *

Francis got back to headquarters from visiting Monty at the hospital to find Agent P sitting at his desk, waiting for him with a notepad in his little webbed hands.

“You are NOT the one I want to see right now, Agent P. What do you have to say for yourself?”

Perry flinched, then offered up a notepad. In his typical kidlike scrawl, he had written “COLLAR HAD EVIL CHIP. BROKEN NOW. DIDN’T KNOW TIL TOO LATE”

“Evil chip? Like the others?”

Perry held out the collar. The chip was still attached. …then again, it would have been well within Agent P’s skill level to attach it himself.

“And you didn’t notice this before putting the thing on? I’m very disappointed in you”

 Perry hesitated, like he wasn’t sure how to respond to that.

“Your recent lack of good judgment is odd for someone we consider to be one of the best.”

Perry stood up, reaching for the notepad, so Francis gave it back to him. Agent P could read and write, which was unusual for a field agent. Usually they only taught that, in a limited fashion, to recon specialists. Carl’s theory was that Perry had inadvertently learned to read from his owners, but Francis thought that was a stretch.

“K HAD COLLAR. SEEMED FINE.”

“So the problem here is Agent K, then. I warned him once already, and then he goes and does this?”

“WAS TRICKED TOO. NOT HIS FAULT.”

“How can you be so sure about that? He’s been nothing but trouble since day one.”

Agent P hopped up, limped over to the file cabinet, and pulled out one of the files. His own file, actually. He flipped it open, and pointed to his early record. The mediocre-to-abysmal ratings that Agent D gave him on his first couple of missions before she retired.

“Just because you went from terrible to the best doesn’t mean he did, too.”

Agent P was writing again. “HE TRIED TO STOP ME.”

“CARL!” Francis barked, “Get in here!”

Carl walked in. He had a bandage on his face. “Yes, sir?”

“What happened to your face?”

“Bailey bit me, sir. I told her about the accident earlier today and she’s pretty upset.”

“Whatever. Call Agent K, and don’t stop calling him until he agrees to come here!”

“Yes, sir.”

“Also, get Perry back to his host family, and come up with some plausible explanation for the casts.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

Trainee V#7 was awakened late in the middle of the night by her cage door being opened. The little fox kit got up with a yawn and a stretch, and was surprised to find a bat agent looking at her. A bat? Her new mentor was a bat? Did this mean she’d been demoted to Recon Specialist Trainee instead of Field Agent Trainee? That didn’t seem fair. They couldn’t demote her before even TRYING to train her.

The bat gestured for her to follow, then took off, looping back frequently so she could keep up. V#7 ran as fast as she could, but it was still challenging without wings. Getting to go out on a mission with an agent was exciting, but this felt like such a bad match. She’d make an excellent field agent, but if she couldn’t keep up with a winged recon agent she might get bad marks. It was like trying to grade a fish on how well it could climb a tree.

The bat agent didn’t seem disappointed in her, though, as it led her outside and up into the city. _Outside? My very first time with my mentor, and we’re starting by going outside?_ V#7 had assumed that ALL trainees spent time working in the training room before they got to go on outdoor missions. That just seemed like good sense. Still, an adventure was an adventure!

About five hours later, she had decided that adventures sucked, being an agent sucked, bats ESPECIALLY sucked, and she wanted to go back home. She’d spent all night chasing the bat to.. wherever they were going. She was always ten steps behind and ten feet below, and the bat never seemed to want to let her take any breaks. Her paw pads were aching and she was more tired than she could ever remember being.

The bat crawled in through a cat door, and she followed it. From there, they went down a hallway and a flight of stairs. If this was a break-and-enter mission, it didn’t feel like they were being very stealthy. V#7 could hear her own claws clicking against the tile floor.

At the bottom of the stairs was a room filled with panda stuff. Obviously whoever decorated this place hadn’t been informed that foxes are the best animal, followed maybe by owls. Beyond that, it opened up into a lab of sorts. V#7 was about halfway across the lab when she hit some sort of hidden trigger, and a cage dropped from overhead, trapping her.

The bat agent didn’t give her a backwards glance. Just flew off through a window, leaving her alone in the darkened lab.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, this fic is over 40,000 words long now. What is even going on anymore?


	38. Chapter 38

Heinz was holding a half-eaten sandwich in one hand, and his Anti-Sandwich-Inator in the other. The original plan had been to be holding a WHOLE sandwich to demonstrate it, but O.W.C.A. was running really, really late recently. Apparently, Norm’s little rampage had put quite a few of their agents out of commission; he’d heard they’d even pulled a few agents out of retirement. Honestly, it had almost put Heinz out of commission, too. But fortunately, the Danville Correctional Facility did not have the proper permits to house an ocelot, and the Fish and Wildlife Bureau couldn’t do anything unless he mauled a tourist. It seemed there were no laws on the books against an ocelot building a killer robot. Ah, bureaucracy.

Since Perry was going to be on the mend for the foreseeable future, Heinz had tried to get in contact with Peter the Panda on the odd chance that he was available to thwart some evil schemes, but there was no answer. He’d tried again, er, several times. The last time he’d called, though, his cell phone had responded by giving him a painful electrical shock. After that he’d used it to order pizza, which worked fine, but when he tried Peter again it shocked him again. He’d tried contacting O.W.C.A. directly instead, only to learn that Peter hadn’t been answering THEIR calls, either. Strange.

There was a loud crash as the substitute agent burst through the door, followed by a shrill yelp as a platypus-trap closed over her face. It would have been nice if O.W.C.A. had BOTHERED to call in advance to let him know that the agent they were sending was a 70-lb Doberman. That way he could have adjusted his traps accordingly. But no, now she was stuck with her head caught in one much too small for her, and it was entirely Monogram’s fault.

He waited politely for her to free herself (apparently she was an older agent—there was a lot of grey around her muzzle), then began. “BEHOLD! My Anti-Sandwich-Inator! With this, I will instantly vaporize all the sandwiches in the Tri-State Area! If I get rid of all the other sandwiches and open the only sandwich-making business here, people will HAVE to pay me if they want one! And instead of money, I’ll collect payment in the form of conquering the Tri-State Area!”

The dog agent stared at him blankly for a full ten seconds, then curled back her lips, showing approximately 800 razor-sharp teeth.

“Uhhh…” Heinz slowly backed away, but the agent matched him step for step, ears pinned back and teeth flashing. She lunged and snapped, and his nerve failed him; he dropped the inator and retreated to the kitchen, “Please don’t eat me!”

Well, that was embarrassing. He waited for his heart to settle, scolding himself for being such a dummkopf. What was the dog going to do, bite him? He had _metal arms._ See, this is why it’s important to just stick with one good nemesis. You don’t end up embarrassing yourself. Well, okay, Heinz had embarrassed himself PLENTY of times in front of Perry the Platypus, but he knew that Perry would never tell. For all he knew, all the agents would be laughing about this around at the O.W.C.A. water cooler tomorrow.

Taking a deep breath, Heinz dusted himself off and walked back into the lair proper. The dog was laying on the balcony in the sunlight, contentedly chewing on his beautiful Inator. She looked up, gave him a friendly doggy-grin, and wagged her stump of a tail. He walked over and reached to pick it up, and she surrendered it without a fight. Well, the wiring was completely destroyed, as was the sensor to make sure that it ONLY vaporized sandwiches.

“Doggy agent, you really shouldn’t have done this,” he said, leaning down to show her the device. She perked her ears in interest. “See, look, there is a self-destruct button RIGHT THERE. If you had bitten down on that, this would have exploded in your mouth. Not good.”

The dog nodded to show that she understood, then lunged and grabbed him by his upper-arm. Heinz definitely _did not_ scream like a girl as she dragged him off of the balcony. It was more of a manly shout of surprise. Anyone who had heard it would have agreed with him on that point, he was sure.

An instant later, Esmeralda Poofenplotz’s ugly helicopter smashed into his balcony right where he had been standing. Oh.

She climbed out of the wreckage, mumbling “Curse you, Pinky the Chi-hua-hua,” under her breath. He was pretty sure she was pronouncing it wrong.

“Door’s that way, Ezzy,” he said, cocking a thumb. She sneered at him, then stalked out. Yeah, definitely not regretting rejecting her from L.O.V.E.M.U.F.F.I.N.

Pinky, meanwhile, landed nearby with his little pink jetpack, keyed a few things into the control panel of the helicopter, then watch as it exploded. Man, and here Heinz had been hoping he could at least strip the ugly thing for parts.

“Good work, Agent P,” a woman’s voice chirped over the small dog’s wrist communicator, “But Dr. Diminutive has just created some sort of spiderbot and is approaching the orphanage! Get on it!” Pinky heaved a sigh, and left as swiftly as he had arrived.

“Well—” Heinz started, but was cut off as the Doberman’s collar-communicator sprang to life, too.

“Good work, Agent D!” Monogram’s voice. “Looks like you’re getting a bit of a break; all our current assignments require an agent with, well, thumbs.”

The dog growled.

“Hey, blame mother nature, not me.”

The agent wagged her tail at Heinz, then turned to go. He heaved a sigh and got to his feet. It seemed like all the agents were pretty overworked, so he decided to maybe not try a second Inator today. Might as well work some more on Norm’s repairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about taking so long with this chapter. It's been a pretty crazy week for me.


	39. Chapter 39

Three years ago, this sort of thing had taken him completely off-guard, but by this point Perry had at least figured out the pattern. He wasn’t 100% sure on the cause of the behavioral shift, but he could at least predict that it would be over in a couple days.

Today, Candace was made entirely out of hormones and anger just looking for a target. She’d told her parents that she hated them, yelled at Ferb for the grave sin of ‘being in the kitchen’ when she went in there to get some sort of medication out of the cabinet, gotten into a two-hour-long fight with Stacy over the phone, eaten an ENTIRE bag of M&Ms without sharing any of them with Perry no matter how politely he had begged, and taken at least three separate hot baths.

She had been in her room now for about three hours, so the “rage” phase was probably about burnt out. Which meant the next phase, the one that always really concerned him, was about to start. Making sure that nobody was in the hall to see him, he stood up and turned the knob to let himself into Candace’s room, then shuffled in on four legs. Well, three legs. The leg in the cast wasn’t of much use.

Candace had burritoed herself up under the covers on her bed, and it sounded like she was crying. Not good. Moving as quickly as a tripod platypus could, Perry hurried over to the bed. It took him three embarrassing tries to climb up onto it, but he finally managed. With a soft chatter, he nudged the pillow that she’d buried her face under.

“Jeremy won’t answer his phone, Perry,” she mumbled, not coming out.

 _Maybe that’s a good thing,_ Perry thought, but would not have said it even if he could speak. Instead, he just burrowed his head under the pillow until he found her face. Candace gave him a weak, tear-streaked smile, then un-burritoed her arms enough to scoop him into a hug and buried her face in his fur.

Perry wasn’t a big fan of hugs even when he didn’t have broken ribs, and on top of that the embrace was uncomfortably warm (apparently she had her electric heated blanket turned on, too. Ugh.), but he had every intention of spending the entire afternoon here if it would make her feel better.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

Miggs needed more blood for additional testing; the last round hadn’t produced much of use.

The fox kit, however, wasn’t cooperating in the slightest. Hitting those itty bitty veins was hard enough as it was without having to deal with a moving target. “Sssh,” he crooned, trying to get her to stop biting his hand, “I won’t hurt you. It’s just a pinch, I promise.”

“No, but I might hurt _you,_ ” came a voice from the lab entrance. A high-pitched yet somehow still gravely voice with an accent that Miggs was about 80% sure was fake.

Miggs had to admit, that lair-wrecking bastard Heinz Doofenshmirtz was the last person he expected to walk though the door. When the security system had pinged, it had identified the collar he’d given to the little cat, so he assumed he was getting a visit from a tiny, angry, fuzzy agent. Oh, well. Perhaps the idiot had the collar in his pocket. Either way, he had some nerve coming here.

“Oh, hello Heinz,” he said, putting on his best friendly tone, “What brings you here?”

But no, Doof wasn’t going to play along at all. “Why do you _think_ I’m here?”

Fine. So be it. “Oh, revenge I suppose,” Miggs answered, “Maybe over the neural modification chips, maybe because I’m nailing your ex. Tell me, has Charlene always been so easy to—”

“Don’t.”

Ah, a soft spot. Nice. “You know, I actually went and looked up the court documents. Apparently _you’re_ the one that filed for divorce, not her. What was that all about? I was shocked.”

Doof, however, just rolled his eyes and refused to take the bait. Spoilsport. “Look, Mister Mystery or whatever your—“

“Professor _,_ ” he corrected sternly, “ _Professor_ Mystery. ‘Mister Mystery’ makes it sound like I should be running some hokey tourist trap out in Oregon. …You know, I’m surprised you’re not in prison. I hear you caused quite a bit of havoc. Both you and your crazy little rodent of a nemesis.”

“Okay, first off, Perry the Platypus is a _monotreme_ and rodents are _placental mammals._ Scientifically speaking, YOU’RE closer to being a rodent than he is! Secondly, _you’re_ the one who put that chip on Perry the Platypus, and made him go crazy. Don’t bother denying it, I have it on a very reliable source.”

Of course, Doof would consider a housecat to be a reliable source. Of course he would. But still, why deny it? It wouldn’t make any difference in the long run. “Unfortunately, O.W.C.A. locked down the servers on me, so I couldn’t check out all the aftermath. Did they put him down?”

“What? Of course not. Why would they do that?”

“Ah, well, maybe next time,” Miggs said with a smirk that he hoped was menacing enough to send chills down Doof’s spine, “I won this round, anyway.”

“You won’t be winning any more. This is the _only_ warning you are going to get,” Doof replied, his tone uncharacteristically icy, “Stay away from my daughter, and stay away from my nemesis.”

“Hypocrite.”

“What? Look, I didn’t _know_ Peter the Panda had a nemesis, and when I found out I _broke it off._ It wasn’t even a serious rivalry, really more of a--.”

“Oh, bullshit,” Miggs seethed, “You called him _fourty-two times_ the day before yesterday.”

Doof frowned, “How would you even know that? He’s gone mis—.”

“I finally had to rig his phone to shock yours to make you stop. So, don’t give me any of that nonsense about how you’re ‘respecting our animosity’ or whatever.”

“You have his phone.” There was something in Doof’s tone that Miggs didn’t like.

“Yes, I have his phone, you lair-wrecking son of a-“

But Doof, rude jackass that he was, cut Miggs off. “What did you _do?”_

Miggs smiled, but there was no warmth in it, “I followed your advice, actually. I talked to him. And talked. And talked. It felt good to get everything off of my chest but it was still… limited. Eventually I grew tired of the sound of my own voice.”

“Apparently, you got over that.”

“Shut it! As much as I enjoyed speaking to Peter the Panda, the conversations were always one-sided. And, ultimately, not very satisfying. I came to realize that I was just talking _at_ him, not _with_ him. So, I did something brilliant. Something _you_ would never dream of doing.”

Doof did not look impressed, or even that interested. For being such a promoter of monologues, he didn’t seem to know how to listen to one politely. “And what is that?”

Miggs smirked, and pulled another one of the communication collars out of the drawer.

“I _listened._ ”


	40. Chapter 40

Heinz was starting to get concerned. REALLY concerned. “Where is Peter the Panda?”

“Oh, stop interrupting me,” Miggs snapped, then continued his monologue. “I made a collar that would allow him to speak back to me. At first, he didn’t. Couldn’t, maybe. I’m not sure. But over time, that changed. I talked to him, and gradually, he started talking back.”

With a dramatic flourish, ‘Professor Mystery’ turned his back. While he continued, Heinz reached over and carefully opened the door of the fox kit’s cage.

“Eventually, I… I asked about O.W.C.A. About how they trained their agents. And Peter told me. He told me everything. The chemicals, the injections, the.. the vivisection. All in the name of making an expendable agent.”

Heinz tucked the fox kit into the pocket of his lab coat.

“It was ghastly. Inhumane. Pandas are an _endangered species,_ you know. The thought of them putting such a noble creature through all of that was just.. unspeakable. No nemesis of mine deserved to remember any of that. To force him to live with memories of such treatment was unthinkable. Of course, I tried to undo the damage, but it was ultimately unattainable. All I succeeded in was a recipe for pure aggression.”

Heinz carefully closed the snaps on his lab coat’s pocket to keep the kit contained. “Where _is_ Peter the Panda.”

“Haven’t you been listening?” Professor Mystery said, turning around to look at him again, “I _had_ to do something. He couldn’t go on living with that.”

Wait. Wait, _what?_ “You _killed_ your nemesis!?”

“I HAD to! It was the only humane thing to do!”

Heinz retreated a few steps, backing towards the door, “Well, uh, I.. I should be going now. I’m… I’m a really busy guy, so...” _Come on, dummkopf, follow me. Three steps outside the door. That’s all._

Professor Mystery advanced on him, his voice dropping back down to a friendly tone, “Why Heinz, I’m afraid you’re not going anywhere.”

One step. Two. There, it was right behind him. Using the fact that he was turning around to disguise that he was skipping a step, Heinz turned and bolted. Predictably, Professor Mystery bolted after him, and ended up taking the step that Heinz had skipped. There was the satisfying sound of a trap being triggered.

He stopped and turned back around, surveying his work with satisfaction. The maniac was dangling upside down from the ceiling, all wrapped up in a human-sized platypus trap.

“Hey!” he shouted, “Let me down this instant!”

“Oh, don’t worry, Mr. Mystery,” Heinz said, turning to go again, “If my ‘rodent of a nemesis’ can figure it out, I’m sure you’ll have no problem.”

He kept up the casual stroll until he was upstairs, then dashed out to his scooter in a hurry.

* * *

* * *

* * *

Well, this was shaping up to be an endless, miserable afternoon for Kyle. When Doof had shown up at Charlene’s penthouse, Kyle had no problems pointing out who the villain who gave him the collar was. He just had to show Doof the picture of “Charles” on Charlene’s desk, and that’s all it took. He didn’t even have to give directions; apparently evil scientists all know where each other live.

Trying to explain it to Monogram, though, had been a goddamn nightmare. They were either unwilling or unable to repair the collar he had given them, and he had no means of trying to explain where he got it. Carl had given him a “rogue’s gallery” book of pictures of L.O.V.E.M.U.F.F.I.N. villains to page through, but not a single one of them was Charles.

So now he was down near the training room, watching boredly as a fresh group of recruits was going through their paces on the obstacle course. Instead of one-on-one training, it looked like a raccoon agent was trying to train five of them simultaneously. Now THERE was a program destined to fail.

Not far from where he was sitting, a large black Doberman was napping with her head on her forepaws. Her muzzle and feet had some heavy greying on them, so he assumed she must be pretty old. Older than any agent he’d ever seen, probably. What age did agents retire at, anyway? Did it vary by species?

The dog abruptly woke up, and backed up into the shadows, moving more swiftly and silently than Kyle would have ever expected an animal her size to move. She waited there like a coiled spring. For a long moment, he couldn’t see what had triggered the sudden stealth-dog routine. Then Perry the Platypus came limping around the corner, dragging his cast, and she sprang.

There was a loud, savage, and surprisingly brief confrontation. For all his skill and martial arts prowess, within seconds Perry had been pinned to the ground under a heavy paw, while the dog slobbered on his face. He gave a bitter chatter, and she let him up. The dog gestured at the obstacle course with her nose, and her intent was obvious. _Do a lap._

Perry chattered in defiance and _attempted_ to throw a punch, but the dog easily grabbed his arm and used the momentum against him, flipping him over and pinning him again. This time, instead of slobbering on him, she snarled, showing her teeth.

Kyle could count the number of times he’d seen Perry go off his feet on one paw, and here this shabby old dog had managed it twice in under a minute.

Agent P tapped out, and the dog let him up. She gestured at the course again. Perry gestured at his leg in a cast. The dog was having none of it; she snatched the hat off of his head, walked back over, and laid down with it in her mouth. Visibly seething, Perry shoved Kyle out of the way and headed over to attempt the obstacle course.

Kyle couldn’t help himself. He sat down to watch.

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be a bit more ambitious than my other fics, and is not going to follow the normal formula for an episode. Enjoy the ride, and let me know what you like and don't like. Comments are my crack.


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